In Search of a Soul
by Charrob
Summary: Severus Snape's life has always been devoted to something: first to Lily, then to the Dark Lord, and finally to Dumbledore and the Boy-Who-Lived. What if his irrepressible need to be bound to someone stems from something much deeper than a lifetime of unhappiness? An eternal pledge and a faithful goddess can change everything. SS/OC. Starts at GOF.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: hello everyone! I'm new to Fanfiction's website - long time reader, first time writer. I edited this first chapter because I had no idea what I was doing when I first uploaded it, and it looked...crazy. Anyway, here is my first offering to the Harry Potter fanverse. I hope you enjoy!

BTW, everything but my oc and the storyline belong to JK Rowling. Love her, am not her.

**Prologue**

A long, long time ago, when tigers still smoked pipes, a young man found himself wandering through an unfamiliar forest on an unfamiliar mountain. How he'd arrived was lost in the mists; his purpose dimly remembered through a curtain of fog.

He was found by a white tigress – a benevolent creature – who took pity and gave him shelter, and meat to fill his belly.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am myself. Who are you?"

"The same, I suppose."

"You are welcome to stay," she offered. "As long as you never approach the waterfall at the end of this river."

He agreed, and the young man and the tigress soon established a rapport. Every day the tigress would come guide him to a fresh kill – for humans were such frail creatures, needing to be fed every day. Every evening they would sit and talk; the tigress learned to enjoy fire, and much laughter was to be heard in the forest at such times. Every night the tigress left for two hours, returning looking much refreshed.

The young man respected the tigress' wishes for many weeks. Yet came the day when human curiosity overwhelmed him. That night, when the tigress departed, he followed. When she waded into the river where the waterfall unceasingly fell, he approached. When she shook off her fur and stepped under the waterfall on human legs, he watched.

When the woman – for she was a woman, a goddess to his eyes – began wading towards the riverbank he fled. And he averted his eyes when she returned to the cave.

"What is the matter?"

"Nothing, dear Lady. What makes you ask?"

"You are uncertain. You are afraid."

"Not afraid. Overwhelmed, perhaps. Entranced, surely."

Blue eyes – so blue they bled black and violet in the flickering light of the fire – regarded him sadly before turning away.

"Goodbye, young man."

"Wait!" he cried. "Why are you leaving? Please don't go!"

"You are no longer welcome. Please return from whence you came."

He grabbed her by the tail as she moved towards the cave entrance and was next on his back as she snarled above him.

"You have seen what you should not. You must not stay."

"I want to stay, please. I want to stay with you," he pled.

A moment of silence, of silent regard. Then the weight crushing him lifted, and the tigress sat back.

"You cannot stay, for it is a soul I am seeking. I thought to take yours, but you are too lovely to take –" the tigress continued, interrupting his immediate protest, "if you would still wish it, you may return. If you are not yet taken by another, return to me on this day in a year, and you will be mine for eternity. Be mindful, young man, for there is no changing your mind, no turning back if you return to me." She nudged him gently. "Sleep now, for tonight. Tomorrow you will leave."

And the young man did so.

The months passed and the young man remained faithful. He did not heed the demands of his parents, the Emperor and his First Wife, to wed, did not notice the women who laid themselves at his feet. He waited for the day of his return to the mountain forest. His memories did not fade of the magnificent tiger, the beautiful woman who awaited him. And all the while a young woman from his childhood watched him, a lily of the valley with jealousy and longing tearing her apart.

The lily of the valley entreated with her father, the Emperor's advisor. He was more than pleased to arrange for his daughter to be wed to the Emperor's son. And it was so.

When the young man heard of his childhood friend's treachery, he rushed to the mountain forest and hurried back towards the cave.

Though the promised day of his return had not yet arrived, the tigress was there, waiting for him. Calmly, sadly. He beseeched her, but she would not be moved.

"You belong to another. I will not take you from her."

He wept.

"No! Please, I didn't want it! My soul is yours! Forever, for eternity, it is yours. This I swear!"

A moment of silence, of woeful regard. Then a decision and a promise was made.

"As you say, your soul is now mine. I will search for you once you are free of this lifetime. Though eternity pass, I will watch for you."

He stared as the tigress rose and shifted away. As shimmering white faded slowly into the forest, a velvet voice drifted back to him on the wind.

"Goodbye for now, my young Prince."

September 1, 1994

Headmaster Dumbledore was seated in his office when Fawkes announced the arrival of a long-awaited visitor.

"Yes, Fawkes?"

"She is here. The woman I have spoken of is at the gate."

"Then we must make haste and greet her. Will you do the honors?"

A nod and a flash, and Fawkes was gone.

"Hello, kinswoman."

The tigress looked up to see a red and gold phoenix watching her from the top of the gate. She smiled.

"Ah, old friend. It is wonderful to see you again. May I enter? Is your young man in?"

"He is. He waits for you."

"Then let us make haste. It is wonderful to be back at Hogwarts, is it not?"

"Indeed. Let me bring you to him."

"The phoenix alighted on her shoulder and flashed them both to the Headmaster's office, where Albus was waiting. The tigress looked at him, then back at Fawkes.

"You have not claimed him. Does he know?"

"Not yet. He was taken, many years ago. I grew tired of waiting and formed a lesser bond."

Deep blue eyes regarded him with sympathy. "You are stronger than I. Ever have I watched from the distance, waiting. Over four thousand years, waiting.

"Not stronger," Fawkes teased. "Less likely to cause panic. Many are more willing to accept a harmless phoenix than a majestic tiger. You would have stricken fear into the heart of the humans." 

"Perhaps. Though I have not taken the form of a tiger in the last century. We have been lost to the ages, my friend." The tigress regarded the Headmaster thoughtfully. He was patiently waiting, obviously aware of the silent conversation occurring without him. He spoke when he realized her attention had turned away from the phoenix.

"Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am delighted to make your acquaintance, dear lady. Fawkes has told me much about you."

"Well met, young man," the woman replied. Dumbledore raised an amused eyebrow. He didn't remember the last time he'd been called a "young" man. Especially by a _young_ woman who looked to be not a quarter his age. He let out a soft chuckle.

"You arrive at a most exciting time, Madame. May I ask the purpose of your visit?"

She pinned him with the full force of her gaze, and he was suddenly struck by the ancient, weary look in her eyes.

"I come seeking a soul. A young man of Prince blood."

Dumbledore frowned. "Seeking a soul? Alas, there are no princes or royalty here at Hogwarts. I apologize, my lady."

She laughed, gently. "Oh? And yet I am drawn to this castle as surely as the moon is drawn to the earth. Are there no descendants of a Prince? Perhaps one accompanied by a young woman, a lily of the valley?" She looked momentarily disconsolate – had she been too late yet again?

"A descendant of a Prince, and a lily of the valley…" Dumbledore sat at his office desk. "Eileen…yes, there is one here who might match your description. He is no Prince, but his mother was one. And Lily…he had a close friend named Lily in his youth, though sadly she is no longer with us. Perhaps this is the man you seek?"

"His name?"

"Severus Snape. Though if he _is_ the one, you may find him unavailable or unwilling to assist you. Is this man necessary for something important?"

The Lady simply nodded her head. "Yes. Very important indeed."


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I couldn't help it. I was too excited so posted this next chapter right away. Sorry but the next updates won't be so quick (well, if I can control myself, that is). I'm thinking a weekly update though. I hope that works for everyone.

Disclaimer: Not mine, JK Rowling owns it all except for OC and this particular storyline.

Chapter 1

"Miss Serena Love will be a guest at Hogwarts this year. I encourage you to treat her with all the respect you would offer your professors." The Headmaster smiled fondly at the striking young woman seated at the end of the table between the Heads of Hufflepuff and Slytherin House.

Snape scowled as Miss Love – a ridiculous name - nodded at the Headmaster's vague introduction from her place at the High Table, smiling softly at the children seated in the Great Hall. A few looked curious about the newcomer in their midst, though the majority of students took as little notice of her as they would an undisturbed dung beetle. He was disturbed at how happy she seemed as she took in the young students. There was a distinct maternal shine in her eyes.

"You're a motherly sort, then, Miss Love?" Pomona Sprout noted with a friendly smile. The scowl on the other side of the newcomer deepened as Miss Love nodded and laughed fondly.

"I suppose. I must confess children of any sort make my heart melt just a little. I'm a mess around soft fluffy animals as well, full-grown or otherwise."

_We'll see if you still feel the same after a week with the beasts._

Professor Sprout had beamed. "You'd fit right into my house, dear. I would have loved to have a student like you."

Thankfully, the Headmaster interrupted the burgeoning nausea by mentioning the Triwizard Tournament that would be taking place this year. All the students were all murmuring in surprise and speculation.

The excitement in the room muted immediately as thunder suddenly cracked throughout the hall. Snape was on high alert until Alastor Moody, the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, appeared, spelling the ceiling quiet and thumping his way up to the High Table. _Wonderful. Just the man I did not want to see_. The old ex-Auror had made it quite clear from the beginning that he would never trust the "reformed" Death Eater in their midst.

The silence in the Great Hall that had descended as Moody entered started to dissipate as the meal appeared and conversations began to pick up again.

Professor Sprout had thankfully turned away and was now in deep conversation with Professor Flitwick about what sort of charms could be used to protect a new shipment of tropical plants she had ordered for this school year's NEWTs class. Snape was content sitting in silence, glad that Miss Love was not looking to him for further entertainment. She'd offered him a confusingly secretive smile as they sat for the Welcoming Feast, to which he'd returned a reluctant nod. That had been the extent of their interaction since the Headmaster had introduced her to the Hogwarts staff earlier in the afternoon. He quite preferred it that way.

Once the Feast was over and the children dismissed, the Headmaster motioned to both Snape and Miss Love. He turned to the woman as they approached.

"Professor Snape will be able to direct you to your new quarters tonight, my dear friend. Feel free to make yourself at home here at Hogwarts for as long as you please." Turning to the wizard in question, Dumbledore added, "Miss Love will be staying in the empty quarters near your own, Severus. You will do your best to ensure she is well-situated and comfortable, of course?"

The Potions Master glowered. _Of all the meddlesome…_He wanted to blast the old man to pieces. He settled for a slight scowl. "Of course."

Miss Love tried to hide a slight shiver, but Snape still spotted it. He smirked internally. He knew the power of his voice. He'd quickly adopted it as another weapon in his ever-present quest to intimidate.

Alas, the woman seemed uncowed. She offered him another one of her odd smiles and gave him a look that made his heart quicken alarmingly. He quickly averted his eyes from her own, deepest blue, gaze.

The journey to the dungeons was quick and silent. Snape strode down the corridors with his customary stride. He was disappointed to find the woman had no trouble keeping up. They arrived in the dungeons too rapidly for the silence to stretch into anything awkward or uncomfortable, and passed several doors before Snape spoke.

"This is my office," he stated, gesturing at a door as they passed. "Should you have any questions for me during the daytime and I am available, I will be in there."

"Thank you, Professor."

_Thank Merlin she's sparse with her words._ He didn't want to mention anything as they passed his own rooms, but for the sake of courtesy he added reluctantly, "These are my private quarters. Should you need something and I am not available elsewhere, you may find me here."

A regal nod and faint smile was her reply. Feline. Predatory. That was the oddness in her smile. He found it a bit…off-putting was not the right word, but he had no better to explain the strange feeling that rose in his heart in response.

Directly after his quarters was a small tapestry depicting a majestic waterfall billowing and foaming over the edge of a steep cliff. He stopped and turned to the witch with a billow. "Your quarters, Miss Love."

"The Headmaster wasn't exaggerating when he mentioned they were near your own, was he?"

That was the longest string of words he'd heard her speak yet and it was laced with the perfect mixture of faint disinterest and wry sarcasm. He hid a surprised shiver of his own. The young woman had a voice. It was velvet and silk and melodic in nature. He scowled a bit. It was the first time he'd had his own trick turned around on him. Suddenly irritated, he brusquely tapped the tapestry with his wand to reveal a large door.

"You can set your own password at your leisure," he stated before stepping inside. He led her through a quick tour of the rooms; or, rather, he billowed silently around the place opening doors as she followed. Everything was rather self-explanatory, after all. Finally they were back at the entrance, with Snape wanting nothing more but to flee and sulk in his own rooms. Next door. Blast that old fool.

He wasn't so lucky. After thanking him for his time, the woman raised an eyebrow in mild rebuke.

"Thank you for the walk. Anything special to note about living in a magical castle?"

OoO

Petty irritation about the woman's voice aside, Snape was fuming at the Headmaster and his questionable matchmaking attempts. How dare that old coot decide to meddle even more in his life?

There were plenty of guest suites littered throughout the castle. The set of rooms Miss Love had been assigned was not one of them. Slughorn had felt a disgustingly extravagant need to expand the more moderate four-room configuration into a fourteen-roomed monstrosity. Snape had immediately removed the connecting archway as soon as he'd been offered the position. He'd kept the bespoke potions lab, though. Naturally.

In any case, there had been no need to place Miss Love in such proximity to the youngest member on staff. Not unless someone was hoping for something to come of it.

More than a generation removed than many of the Hogwarts staff, Snape had spent the better part of a decade avoiding poorly disguised "run-ins" with one or the other person's niece, grandson, or 'family friend.' Even Minerva, with whom he thought he'd shared a begrudging kind of professional friendship, had tried, once, to introduce him to the "loveliest girl, with the most delightful passion for Potions, you know," before he'd scowled her out of the idea.

The unwelcome intrusions upon his love-life had finally stopped once Harry Potter had arrived at Hogwarts. Thankfully, the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Save-Him-From-Blind-Dates was much more worthy gossip-fodder than the unlovable and unloving Potions Master. Not that that had turned out to be much of a reprieve, though. Any time saved not having to worry about interfering old biddies was spent trying to keep the small child from running headlong towards his death at any moment.

Speaking of keeping children from death and physical harm, it was time for him to greet the first years and lay down some ground rules. Therefore, after grunting in response to her last question he took his leave—not fleeing, but in the most dignified of manners, thank you very much.

He didn't notice the dark blue eyes watching him as he billowed away and strode off towards the Slytherin Common Room to welcome his new children.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi everyone, this is a little early but I will be out of town for the rest of the week. Thanks for the follows and the favs - I admit to being super excited that someone liked my story well enough to want updates! Yay!

In any case, this story will be as close to canon as possible in the beginning but will diverge pretty soon - not surprising, considering there's an entire new character involved and a new back-back story for our intrepid spy. This chapter will flesh out the Snape I pictured in my head for this story - just as acerbic, grouchy, and strict as we love, but hiding a heart of gold under that prickly exterior. In fact, if any of you come from a Confucian, Shinto, or Buddhist background, you might recognize some of his mannerisms. I know I always thought Snape reminded me of my Korean grandmother, haha. She was raised as a noble, so she was very...let's say reserved. Y'all know what I mean. And if you don't, let me know and I'll let you in on the joke.

Chapter 2

The first night of the school year was the one night Professor Snape addressed all his children as a group. After giving his traditional welcome speech to the first years he left the care of the younger children to their older peers for the rest of their time at Hogwarts. It was an efficient system, and one he was rather proud of putting into place.

This night was no different despite the Headmaster's efforts to annoy his favorite Potions Master. Snape stalked into the Slytherin Common Room where all of Slytherin House was gathered and lined up by year. He wafted his way to the front and pinned his newest children with what, for him, constituted a friendly expression. Some of the newcomers shivered, while others paled.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Slytherin House. For the next seven years, this will be your home, and those around you will be your family. Here you will find your kindred in cunning, ambition, and resourcefulness. To a lesser extent you may find more outside of these walls. For to be Slytherin is to embody all that the Founders envisioned: there is no resourcefulness without courage, no cunning without knowledge, no ambitions achieved without hard work or loyalty."

He watched with amusement as the tiny eleven-year-olds stood transfixed. His older students knew this speech by heart; some were mouthing the words along with him. Others looked bored out of their wits.

He chose to ignore them. It happened every year. "Many of those from other Houses will envy and mistrust you, both student and professor alike. You may find yourself wishing to strike back at them, to stoop to their misconceptions of you. I would advise you to refrain from such foolish behavior. The best revenge is to live well, to receive honor, to achieve success. You _will_ do your best from this moment forward. And Slytherin House," he stated, flinging out an arm to encompass both himself and the older students, "will help you until the very end."

He stood with his arm outstretched and let the silence spread as he regarded his new batch of first-years. Once he had locked eyes with each one of them, he murmured his final words.

"Welcome to the family."

With that said and done, Snape strode out of the common room, trusting the older students to take over explaining the rules of Slytherin House and getting the new youngsters settled into their rooms.

As soon as he'd gone the Fifth Year Prefects stepped forward and addressed the first-years while the rest of the students emptied out of the common room. Aurelius Smith, the male Prefect, spoke first.

"Alright, then, rules first and then you'll be heading off to bed. You heard Professor Snape; the other Houses tend to hate us so the absolute first rule is: We. Are. Family. That means we stick up for one another and present a united front no matter what family feuds or conflicts are going on. Any bad blood in-House is dealt with in-house, understood?"

Harmony Pratchett took up the next portion.

"For the next two weeks there will be an older student to escort you to breakfast and to each of your classes so you don't get lost. Be here at 6:30 sharp tomorrow so we can take you down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Professor Snape expects us to attend all meals and eat a balanced diet, so don't be surprised if one of us comes along and adds some vegetables or fruit to your plate. Tomorrow you'll be getting your class schedules, so be done eating by 8 so we can escort you back to get your books and take you to your first class on time."

"There will be a list on the announcement board of available tutors for every subject by year. If any of you excel in a subject you can expect to be the tutor in that subject next year for the new firsties. Study Hours will be posted on the board as well as soon as we're able to work out what everyone's schedules look like."

"First-years need to be in their pajamas, teeth brushed and ready for bed no later than 9pm. Lights out at 9:30 and we mean it. You'll be expected to get a full 9 hours of sleep minimum each day, even if that means one of us has to stick you to your bed for your afternoon naps. And you _will_ have afternoon naps, no questions, no arguments. Boys' dorms are to the right, girls' to the left. Your doors are the closest to the common room. Any questions? Confused enough? Alright, get your little arses off to bed."

Smith and Pratchett watched the little firsties scamper off to their rooms and exchanged tired smiles.

"Reckon they'll remember any of that in the morning?"

Harmony snorted. "Unlikely. We'll be lucky if we don't have to go in aguamenti-ing them all at 6:35 tomorrow."

"True. Well, we'll just have to keep drilling it into their little heads until it sticks."

"Yeah. Oh the joys of being a Prefect. At least the second-years will be the ones taking care of their tutoring and coddling. I hear the other Houses' Prefects are expected to do all of that and more."

"What a nightmare. Thanks for that, Pratchett. It's your fault if I show up tomorrow bleary-eyed and scared out of my wits."

"Ha, whatever, Smith."

"Night."

"Night."

The next two weeks did indeed transpire as promised by Slytherin's Fifth Year Prefects, and the first-years discovered that the threat of an afternoon nap was not only real, but required. Professor Snape had very strict rules for his children, all geared towards bringing out their full potential and minimizing any of the more detrimental aspects of the traditional boarding school system. Namely, insufficient sleep, lack of accountability, and generally uncensored and unruly behavior.

While not every Snake adhered thoroughly to their Head's strict expectations, enough took them to heart to provide a solid foundation for the Snape Way, as the older students fondly called it. Indeed, many would have been shocked to discover how much trust and affection the Slytherins held for their sour, angry Head of House. He was their parent, their confidant, their source of stability and comfort. He grumbled and snarked and sneered through it all, but never failed to provide his children the care that they needed.

In regard to the man himself, Snape was fully immersed in his routine beginning-of-the-year schedule. The catastrophe that was the Malfoy scion kept him quite occupied as well. He'd had to meet with the menace nearly every day the first two weeks. Not to mention the continual coddling the boy had required over the last three years. He sometimes wished he didn't have to keep up with pretenses with his fellow ex-Death Eaters. Oh, how he wished he could give the boy a good wallop on the behind and shake some sense into him. Narcissa coddled her son too much for his own good.

In all the commotion and bother of the school year, Snape had happily begun to forget about the woman ensconced in the rooms next door. Until he quite literally ran into her on a quiet Saturday afternoon in mid-September.

"Oomph…well, good afternoon, Professor Snape," declared a muffled voice with good-natured humor. The muffling came from his chest area, where her face was pressed into his robes and his hands were on her waist, where they had automatically flown to steady—well, her or himself, he couldn't really tell.

They remained in that position for but a brief moment before she stepped away. She peered worriedly into his face as he unconsciously flexed his hands. She was much more solid than he would have expected—the force of their encounter quite neatly answered the age-old question regarding the meeting of an unmovable object and an unstoppable force. Surprising, considering the top of her head barely reached his shoulder.

"Are you quite alright?" she asked.

He let out a small snort of disbelief. "I believe I should be asking that question to you, Miss Love." He looked down at her in bemusement. In the dim lighting of the dungeons, her almond-shaped eyes looked black rather than the deep blue he'd originally noted. They were set in a perfectly symmetrical face along with similarly striking features. Elegantly shaped eyebrows, pert nose, high cheekbones, full lips and a narrow chin. All framed with glossy black waves of hair that flowed past her shoulders...When taken in all together, he was left with the impression of looking into the face of the divine. Wait. Where had that thought come from? He shook it off quickly.

The woman flapped an elegant hand in dismissal and granted him another one of her predatory smiles. He felt a flutter in his chest. Of disconcertion, of course. "I'm fine, just fine. I apologize for running into you Professor. If you are unharmed, I'll be on my way." And with an inscrutable look and another smile she was gone, brushing past him without a care.

He watched her go with perplexity, realizing belatedly that he was flexing his forearms and fists without thought. Resuming his course, he forcefully pushed away all stray thoughts of Miss Love's exotic beauty and her surprising strength—and the soft curves that had pressed so perfectly against him—as he headed to his office.

It was an hour of distracted grading before he groaned and pushed the parchments aside. Brow furrowed he pulled this new puzzle piece out to examine it. The woman had an…abnormally perfect face, he admitted, but until now he'd had no idea what she might look like under her robes. Which were, quite honestly, rather hideous. A drab black and with enough material to pass as a student if one weren't looking too closely. She was obviously hiding quite a bit under her nondescript clothing. But for what purpose?

_Why does it matter?_ His inner conscience bit back at him. She was for all intents and purposes a nonentity to him. He had no idea, nor did he care, why she was at Hogwarts other than the fact that Albus and his flamboyant chicken seemed inordinately fond of her. As long as she stayed out of the way of his Snakes (and Potter) and didn't cause any undue trouble to them (or Potter), there should be no reason for him to care one way or the other.

Still…She'd felt remarkably fit underneath all that heavy material, if the way her muscles had shifted under his touch were any indication. But not bulky; he probably could have encompassed her entire waist with just his hands if he'd wanted to. And there had still been plenty of softness belying that inner strength…

He shook his head fiercely. _Damn it, Albus._ The old man had managed to get into his head, housing the woman so close to him. He ignored the fact that he'd been just fine not thinking about her nearness until just this afternoon. Tapping his long fingers rapidly on top of his desk, he summoned his paperwork back towards him with a thought and returned to his task with a vengeance, denying himself any further opportunity to dwell on a certain witch and her womanly wiles.

**A/N: **Poor Snape. He's in so much denial, don't you think? Tsk tsk Severus, wondering what lies underneath a woman's robes...

For those who might be wondering, in my mind Serena Love (and yes, Dumbledore gave her that ridiculous name) looks Eastern Asian, all except for the blue eyes - that was just a bit of mental magic on my part - a lot of white tigers have blue eyes, and since Serena is one, tadah! blue/violet eyes. Exotic isn't really the pc word for describing non-Caucasian people anymore, but it was common usage in the past.


	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note: So here we are, a new chapter! I must admit, I enjoyed writing this one. Our Snapey will be considerably OOC towards the end of this chapter. If I've written it right, you'll see why, and think it funny rather than weird. Well, that's all I have to say for now. See you at the end of the chapter!

Disclaimer: It's none of it mine, save my Serena and my plotline. JK Rowling = Queen.

Chapter 3

Snape was surprised when he found himself standing just outside Miss Love's quarters. He was preparing to about face and flee when he realized he'd already knocked; he could feel the slight tingle in his knuckles. Damn it. A short second of indecision later, he had turned, still hoping to make his escape, when the door opened and his neighbor stood before him with her lovely face and nondescript clothing.

Snape could not believe his idiocy. He had no idea what had possessed him to walk over and knock on Miss Love's door after he'd finished his grading. He'd been trying so hard not to think about her that he'd succeeded in deluding himself he was _not_ about to search her out _as_ he went to search her out. And now that he was here and she'd answered the door…he had no idea what excuse he could make for his presence.

"Professor Snape, what a pleasant surprise. Please come in. Care for some tea?"

_No_. "…Yes."

Now, Snape considered himself normally a very collected, well-spoken man. As a spy, he'd been required to think on his feet and have a ready and appropriate response at the swish of a wand. To do otherwise was to invite punishment or death. He had, admittedly, not been a spy for very long before the Dark Lord had disappeared, but he'd spent the intervening years honing his skills and practicing on his colleagues and the remaining Death Eaters he knew. He had been convinced he was prepared for any and all situations he might find himself in.

Except, he was concerned to discover, situations that involved beautiful, mysterious women that lived a half pace away from him and invaded his personal space when he was just innocently walking along, minding his own business.

Feeling very much wrong-footed, Snape quickly shook himself and sat trying to determine his next move. He wanted to just stand up and leave while Miss Love was off making more tea. But that would be rude. And he couldn't pretend he'd never been here. There was a witness.

Although…no, he couldn't obliviate her. That would also be rude. And easily discoverable. He would at least have to come up with a reason to have come over.

Much too soon, Miss Love returned from her kitchenette with a fresh-brewed cup of tea. Thanking her, he cast a surreptitious diagnostic spell before noticing she'd prepared it exactly as he preferred – one sugar, no milk. An eyebrow rose unbidden.

"I've seen you take your tea in the Great Hall." Oh. That explained it. Wait. She'd been watching him. Closely enough to see how he took his tea. He hadn't even noticed her. Was he glad or upset? _Wait. Why the hell would I be _glad_?_ He scowled and strove to regather his thoughts.

Miss Love sat across from him on the sofa and picked up her own mug. "What brings you to my door, Professor?"

He grasped onto any plausible excuse. This woman didn't know him. She wouldn't find anything suspicious if he acted like a normal, friendly person. Never mind that he'd ignored her very existence for the last two weeks.

_Merlin's balls, what kind of spy am I?_ He felt distinctively at a loss.

"Curiosity, Miss Love." Snape leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his tea, pretending equanimity. It really was perfectly brewed. "I realize it has already been two weeks since you were introduced to us. I apologize for taking so long to come visit."

"Serena, please, Professor. And there is no need to apologize. I am sure you have been quite busy, what with the school year just beginning and all the excitement over the Triwizard Tournament this year."

"Indeed." _Keep talking, you fool_. Snape cleared his throat. "Your arrival was quite fortuitous; the Tournament has not been held for two centuries." _And for good cause._ "Would I be correct in assuming that to be the reason for your presence in the castle this year?"

His host surprised him by shaking her head. "Actually, no, Professor. I had no idea the Triwizard Tournament would be taking place this year. Quite a surprise, really. No, I had another reason for making my way to Hogwarts this year." Her deep blue eyes – so dark they flickered black and violet in the lighting from the fireplace – seemed to shine at him as she spoke.

Snape felt confused. "I see." _I don't see._

She was staring at him rather intensely. It was making him feel uncomfortable. And when Snape felt uncomfortable, he started to get angry.

He was working himself into quite a nice state of fury when he was rudely interrupted.

"The castle is magnificent."

"Beg pardon?"

She had averted those beautifu—no, _offputting _eyes and was leaned back examining the ceiling. "I suppose you must be used to it, practically living here year-round, but your school is rather unique, don't you think? Hogwarts has been around for a millennium, built on top of ley lines and charged with magic on a daily basis as students practice and learn. So much power in these stones…" she trailed off, her eyes fixed dreamily on the ceiling.

Feeling bemused, Snape considered this for a moment. It was true; he had been at Hogwarts for the better part of two decades now. He tried to remember how it had felt to view the castle for the first time, feeling the welcoming weight of the wards settle around him as he had floated across the lake. It was so long ago. The wonder and awe was lost to him now.

He snapped back to the present when his host waved a freshly brewed pot of tea under his nose. Looking up, Snape realized he had been sitting in silence for an unacceptably long time. His tea was stone cold in his hand, and he gladly gave it up for a fresh cup.

_Huh_.

He wasn't sure whether to be appalled or pleasantly surprised. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt safe enough in another person's presence to drift off into his own thoughts. Such indulgences were normally reserved for the safety of his own quarters or in his office behind locked and warded doors.

He suddenly felt like a fool. What kind of spy let down their guard in the presence of a near stranger? He glowered and began to rise to his feet, intent on taking his leave, when he was once again stopped in his tracks.

"I've traveled quite a bit over the years. Would you like to see my library?"

OoO

"Surely you don't believe that nonsense about occamy shells necessitating the use of a pure silver cauldron in brewing."

Snape was in heaven. Serena's library was replete with ancient tomes and scrolls from all over the world. He'd found a Koryo book on ingredients – potions or cooking, he couldn't tell yet – and they'd fallen into a conversation on European potions making.

"Of course not!" Serena protested. "The silver in the eggshells would be compromised by any imperfection in the cauldron itself. And you'd never be able to achieve any sort of consistency between brews with the cauldron releasing its own silver into the mix. Besides, Mrs. Spore clearly wrote her book without considering _any_ of the more advanced potions that utilize occamy shells. Felix Felicis isn't brewed in a silver cauldron, after all."

Snape snorted. "Yes, it is quite unfortunate that there are no other texts that offer anything near as comprehensive as One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. It is the only book I could find for my students, and it is woefully out of date."

"There _must_ be something better available. Have you considered looking outside of Europe? I've found that the Chinese have a surprisingly thorough understanding of various ingredients and their usage; it shouldn't prove too difficult to get a translation of one of their texts and arrange for it to be printed for the British market." She handed a well-bound treatise written in Chinese for Snape's perusal.

Not for the first time that evening, Snape wished he had taken the time to learn more than the European languages. "Really? I suppose that doesn't come as too much of a surprise; they are known for being exhaustive in their search for knowledge. An entire country of Ravenclaws, that lot. But what do you think about…"

In the course of the discussion that followed they moved from the library back to the sitting room to argue over some books from her collection and then to the kitchenette to compare their preparation techniques. It wasn't until Serena let out an enormous yawn in the middle of demonstrating the difference between mere dicing and a delicate brunoise on a poor defenseless carrot that they realized it was nearly five in the morning.

"Oh, goodness, wherever did the time go?" Serena asked.

Severus was mildly confused until she gestured to the small clock in her kitchenette. She must have seen the shocked look on his face, as she began chuckling, quickly moving on to belly-aching howls as he began to—what in the world—laugh with her. Despite the small traces of delirium that laced their amusement, Snape couldn't help but notice that Serena's laughter was just as rich, silky and alluring as her voice was.

"I'm…so-rry…Severus," she gasped out as their laughter finally started to peter out. "I have no idea why I started laughing. Blame it on the lack of sleep, will you?"

Snape chuckled as he shook his head at her. "I will if you will." Drawing himself up, he carded a hand through his disheveled hair and sketched a formal bow, feeling intoxicated by the lack of sleep and their surprisingly delightful conversation. "Thank you for a lovely evening, madame. I would love to continue this discussion after we've both managed to regain some sleep and sanity."

Serena laughed softly. "Certainly, dear sir." She stifled another yawn behind an exaggerated flutter of her hand. "I'm afraid I must retire as well. Did you have any plans for the following evening, perhaps?"

_What? Could she really-?_ "None as of yet. However, seeing the results of our prior evening, an earlier engagement might be best. Lunch?"

She tsked and gently began pushing him towards the door. "Let's make it early afternoon, Severus. I have a feeling I won't be up until after lunch today. It is five in the morning after all. Thank the Highest it's a Sunday, at least."

"Indeed." They'd reached the entrance and Severus aimed an exaggerated bow in her direction. "I take my leave, my lady."

Serena giggled again. "Adieu, my lord."

Snape walked the few short steps to his own quarters feeling quite uplifted. That was the most pleasant night he'd enjoyed in years. He was very glad he'd decided to knock on her door.

**A/N: **Koryo was a Korean dynasty that ruled from 918 until 1392 and the dynasty that Korea gets its English name from. It was one of three kingdoms that occupied the Korean peninsula during that time, and eventually unified and ruled over the entire peninsula itself.

Aaaaand what did you think? Our Ravenclaw at heart Severus got completely sidetracked by Serena's charming...library and seems to have let down his guard completely around her. He was even acting goofy towards the end of it. A bit fast, don't you think? Don't worry, dear readers, our sarcastic, suspicious Snape will be making a comeback soon. He has no idea why he would feel so comfortable in Miss Love's presence...for now.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Three short hours of sleep later, Snape was lying in bed questioning everything that had happened to him the previous night.

He'd been bewitched. There was no other explanation for it. Serena – no, Miss Love – had broken through all of his carefully-monitored defenses with a cup of tea and a room full of books. What in Merlin's name had he been thinking?

He'd ended up having fun. Him. Fun. With a beautiful woman, no less. Serena had a quick and dry wit, could be both sarcastic and innocent as hell. He still had no idea what she looked like underneath those robes but it didn't even matter. Her personality alone was enough to make the orneriest hag shine. He was shocked to realize he had felt free to be himself – his actual self – around her. He couldn't remember ever feeling so relaxed around another person. Not even around Lily…

Lily. Snape paused to consider his very first friend. He wasn't a fool. He'd long realized that his obsession with Lily was exactly that – an obsession born of a teenaged crush, unrequited feelings, and enormous regret. That hadn't stopped him from devoting himself completely to protecting her son; it was small recompense for being the one to place her in danger in the first place.

Being friends with Lily had never been easy. At first he'd offended her by calling her a witch, and their early friendship was burdened by the disapproving presence of her older sister and his own wretched home life. At school he was mocked and bullied, while Lily was constantly being questioned for her friendship with him. He'd constantly had to act like someone else; someone nicer, someone friendlier, in order to keep Lily happy with him.

He'd once thought they were star-crossed lovers. It had turned out that they were merely ill-suited friends. Anyone would find him an ill-suited friend. It was simply inevitable.

But Serena…he had felt comfortable around her almost immediately. He'd felt accepted. It was childish, but she hadn't chastised him for being mean, or been put off by his grouchy personality, ugly looks, or scowly face. She hadn't even mentioned it once.

It was this that had Snape second-guessing everything. This sense of…connection, of understanding, was not something someone like Severus Snape could ever experience. And never had Snape felt so drawn to a person. Especially since Lily. Neither women nor men or anyone in between had caught his attention in such a way. It had to have been a trick of the mind, a byproduct of the delirium that oft accompanied sleepless nights.

Or bewitchment. There had been no potion in his tea – he was much too experienced to not have noticed that—so it must have been a spell or enchantment. Or perhaps she had discovered how to vaporize potions and it had been infused in the air? He had detected nothing.

And yet he had been deceived. The realization made Snape furious. He'd been made a fool. And he'd agreed, in fact had wanted to meet Sere—no, that witch—earlier today. Just what was she playing at? He knew himself too well to think that a woman of her caliber had any but alternative motives for pretending to enjoy his company.

He shot out of bed with a growl. Albus would be disappointed if he tortured someone on school grounds. He would have to find another way to suss out this new threat.

OoO

Later that afternoon, much to Snape's disgust (and maybe a small, infinitesimal amount of delight—surely a byproduct of whatever had been cast on him in the first place), a knock sounded on the door to his quarters.

Fully buttoned into his armor of black upon black, Snape threw up his strongest shields and cast every ward he knew that would prevent a repeat of last night's magically induced idiocy. Striding to the door, he opened it smoothly and gracefully. He'd decided to pretend ignorance and watch for any signs of treachery. That didn't mean he had to continue acting like an insipid fool, however.

"Miss Love," he acknowledged curtly. "May I help you?" he added in a most unhelpful tone of voice.

The blasted witch beamed up at him. "I certainly hope so, Severus," she responded teasingly. He wanted to smile back at her. He hadn't even lasted a minute. _Merlin, it's happening again. Keep your senses, man! _

"I believe it's your turn to host, don't you think?" And she brushed past him and into his quarters without another word.

He tried to muster some indignance at her overfamiliar manner but was quickly failing. _What is going on? What about my wards?_ None of them had been triggered by a malicious spell. He could feel his suspicions fading, being replaced by a warm, comforting feeling that all was right with the world in this woman's presence. Now that he was monitoring himself for such changes, it was alarming just how quickly she seemed to be worming herself past his defenses. _Abort mission. Abort mission_.

"I am afraid I will be unable to keep our prior engagement," he forced out through clenched teeth. He immediately wanted to take it back.

"Oh? Did something come up?" she asked, surprised.

He clung to this excuse like a drowning man to his rescuer's throat. "Yes. I'm afraid I will be unavailable for the rest of the day."

"I understand. Well, you know where I am if your schedule should open up." And she took her leave with a friendly pat on his shoulder.

He watched her go with an impassive nod, feeling the lingering warmth of her brief touch. He felt equal amounts relieved and disappointed she had not demanded to stay. This would never do. He was not so weak a man to succumb so quickly to a woman's wiles.

Growling in frustration – he had not felt so out of control since he was a foolish young boy – he paced back and forth in his sitting room. So he could not trust himself to seek out his information from the direct source.

With a determined nod, he left his quarters and billowed his way rapidly towards the Headmaster's office.

OoO

"There is something suspicious about Serena Love."

Albus seemed unsurprised at his youngest professor's sudden appearance, though an eyebrow rose at the accusation.

"Oh? And what has led you to this conclusion, my dear boy?"

Snape bristled at the undertone of amusement coloring the Headmaster's voice. And at the realization that he'd have to explain why he was suspicious of Sere—that woman. The old man would never let him live it down.

He grasped at a different excuse. "Why else would a complete stranger – unconnected to Hogwarts or any of the students or staff – come to the school the year the Triwizard Tournament is announced, after the events at the Quidditch World Cup? I find her timing highly suspicious."

"And I consider her arrival rather auspicious, Severus," the old man admonished. "Rest assured that Miss Love shared her reasons for coming to Hogwarts to me. I found them quite compelling."

Compelling? Here was the proof he had needed. There was definitely something going on with the woman, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Indeed? And just how _compelling_ were her reasons, Headmaster? Did you detect nothing out of the ordinary about her?"

"Nothing but an extraordinary woman, my dear boy," Albus answered with a knowing look. "Fawkes and I believe our newest guest to be quite the trustworthy character. And I consider Fawkes a fine judge of such things. So if she has not deigned to share with you her genuine purpose, I trust she has good reason for it. Tell me, Severus, what caused you to suspect Miss Love of deceit?"

_I like her. And I don't like anybody._ Knowing that wouldn't be a good enough reason, and that it would only lead to twinkles and insinuations and "Good for you, Severus!"es, he decided to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he glowered at the Headmaster.

"What reasons did she give you?" he said to change the subject.

"Ah, I'm afraid that is something you will have to wait for Miss Love to reveal," Dumbledore replied. The damnably ever-present twinkle in his eye was competing for pride of place with a large dose of amusement. At Snape's expense, the Potions Master was certain. "She has asked that I not speak of any knowledge of her intentions until she has had the opportunity to do so herself."

"And you believe she would speak of them to me?"

"Perhaps, Severus, perhaps." The amusement was definitely winning out now. "I trust that if she finds you have earned the knowledge, she will tell you eventually."

Hearing the dismissal and the rather broad hint that her reasons for being at the castle involved him in some way or the other, the younger wizard sneered and left the office brusquely, shooting the headmaster's overdressed chicken a suspicious glare.

Severus was left with two options. Either that..._woman_…was clever enough to pull the wool over both the Headmaster's and the phoenix's eyes, or she did indeed have a valid reason for being at Hogwarts. Neither option fully explained the strange draw Severus felt towards her, or how comfortable he felt in her presence.

Which left only one bewildering explanation for the odd compulsion that had come upon Snape yesterday and this afternoon.

Severus Snape genuinely liked Serena Love's company.

OoO

Snape had been acting even more moody than usual this week. Harry tried to keep his head down, but the man seemed to have it out for him even more than he typically did. At least it wasn't just him – even the Slytherins seemed to be tiptoeing their way around their snarling Head of House.

"Foul git's been acting even worse than usual," Ron muttered around a mouthful of mashed potatoes that evening at dinner.

"Ronald!" Hermione admonished. The red-headed boy just shrugged.

"S'true, ain't it?" Ron gestured towards the High Table. "Look at him and tell me you don't see it too."

She hesitated. They all looked up to see Snape sitting glowering at everyone from his usual seat at the table. The rest of the staff were casting worried or annoyed glances his way – it seemed he had been taking out his ire on his coworkers as well.

"I wonder what's bothering him," Hermione murmured. Ron finally swallowed.

"Who cares? I just hope he gets over whatever it is before he murders somebody. It's terrifying the way he looks at you." He suddenly grinned and nudged Harry. "Reckon he asked out that new staff member and she shot him down?"

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"You know, Miss Love! They say the two have rooms right next to each other. I bet the greasy bat asked her out. He's disgusting, but everyone else on the staff is old. He must have thought he had a chance."

"Ugh, Ron, I don't want to think about that," Harry replied. "Poor lady."

They both started laughing under their breath, ignoring the small huffs emanating from their disapproving friend.

"Honestly, you two, you shouldn't be talking about a professor that way! And Professor Snape isn't disgusting, he's quite-" here Hermione paused and turned a slight shade of pink. "In any case, his social life isn't any of your business. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for his recent behavior. And it probably has more to do with the school than with any…relationships he's seeking." The two boys shuddered at the unpleasant thought and Hermione huffed again. "Can we please talk about something else?"

"What does Miss Love do, anyway?" Harry asked obediently. "There was that one announcement by the Headmaster introducing her, but I barely see her anywhere and she's not teaching any classes. Wonder why she's here this year?"

"I see her in the library sometimes," Hermione mused. "Maybe she's working on a research project. The Hogwarts Library is rather extensive, after all."

"A research project? Why would she want to go and do something like that?" Ron asked.

"I don't know, Ronald," Hermione responded acerbically. "Maybe that's why she's here at the school. To help Hogwarts further its reputation by publishing research like most institutions of higher learning do."

"They do that?" Ron asked, mouth hanging open. "What for?"

Harry interrupted what was sure to be a half-hour lecture on why muggle schools published research papers and shared knowledge amongst one another before it could get started.

"That makes sense, Hermione," he said quickly. "What do you reckon she's researching?"

"Oh…I don't know. I wonder if I can ask her sometime. She seems quite friendly…" Hermione subsided into her own thoughts and Harry gave Ron a meaningful look. Crisis averted.

"She's a real looker, though," Ron said in an undertone to his messy-haired best friend. "Have you seen her up close? I ran into her once that time Snape threw me out of Potions early. I swear she's the most beautiful lady I've ever seen. Wonder how old she is."

"No, hadn't really noticed," Harry replied absently, his attention once again diverted to the High Table. Snape was stabbing at his plate with a demented gleam in his eye. Harry shivered. "Are you done, yet? I want to go get some flying in before curfew."

Ron perked up. "Nearly," he said while shoveling food into his mouth even faster than he had before. "Gi' me a minute an' we c'n go."

"Alright." Harry looked away, feeling a bit queasy, while he waited for the black hole that was his friend to eat his fill.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, not me. More's the pity.

Chapter 5

The Golden Trio were correct in their assumption that Snape's foul mood had to do with one Serena Love, but that was where the similarities ended.

Snape had never found himself in quite the situation he was now. The thought of him being pursued by a woman was ridiculous. It didn't matter that she seemed to only have friendship on her mind. He'd never met anyone that seemed so desperate for his attention. Well, except for the Dark Lord. But that didn't count. Not in the slightest.

Her attention was flattering, for certain. But it was also completely unwelcome, especially during the week when students plagued the castle corridors like a bad infection in the blood.

"Good morning, Professor Snape. Did you have a good night's rest?"

_Don't smile don't smile don't smile don't you dare, there are students about! Just nod and say her name. Good. Now keep walking, keep walking….damnit man, walk!_

"Professor, would you mind very much showing me to the Astronomy Tower? I heard the view there is magnificent."

_Dear sweet son of Merlin and Morgana, yes._ "…I am afraid I must be…somewhere else at the moment. Perhaps another time." _Somewhere else? Another time? You cowardly bastard._

"Oh, Professor! I'm so glad I ran into you. Have you seen the latest Potions Journal? There was a fascinating article on a young man's venture into Far East Russia. There is a veritable goldmine of unknown or thought-to-be-extinct flora and fauna…um, Professor Snape?"

_Very smooth, Snape. Pretend sudden deafness and just keeeeep on walking, that's right. Just keep on walking. Why couldn't you do this yesterday morning, you great big buffoon?_

Severus Snape was having a very difficult time not feeling like an idiot.

OoO

"So your young man is avoiding you now, is he?" A handsome man with gold-kissed skin and fiery red hair laughed as he took a sip from a mug of hot chocolate. Even in human form the phoenix had a taste for sweets. It was a trait he shared with his own young man.

"So it seems," Serena agreed with a small smile. She found it rather…cute, how Severus was grouching and snarling throughout the castle. And how befuddled he would get whenever she managed to sneak up on him.

"I still don't understand how you chose him of all people for your soul, Love," Fawkes continued. "Such a grumpy young man."

"It has been overlong for him," she explained once again. "His soul grows darker with every turn and will do so as long as his pledge remains unfulfilled." She sighed. "Perhaps I should not have waited. If I had simply taken what is mine at the start, rather than allow him to be stolen from me…"

Fawkes interrupted. "You know as well as I do that that would have been worse than leaving him be. Humans need their free will, my old friend. An eternity chained, no matter how pleasantly that time may pass, will still chafe."

"And they need to make the choice themselves, yes, I know," Serena finished. "Still, he already made his choice long ago, and it grieves me to see his pain and loneliness. Perhaps I should have formed the lesser bond myself, much as you have with your young man."

"I already told you when you arrived. No one in the wizarding world bats an eye at the presence of a phoenix alongside a human. If anything, it increases their regard for that person. You, however, have terrified man and beast alike since the dawn of creation." He winked. "Unless you would deign to become a domestic house cat, of course."

She snarled at him, incensed. "Of all the-! You insult me, old bird."

With a shrug that brought to mind the fluttering of fiery wings, Fawkes laughed, unafraid. "And there is the proof that you and your young man are truly meant to be. His temper and power suit you, Love. You will make a formidable pair."

Appeased, she settled back into her armchair with a gleam in her eye. "Yes," she agreed. "We will."

Fawkes imitated her gesture, settling in for another one of their long conversations. "So," he gestured. "Tell me more about your time in Mongolia with 'Severus the Hun.'"

"Idiot of a man," she scoffed fondly as she brought up the memory. "Well, by the time I came across him his father had already married him off to that blasted lily so he could birth an heir before going off to war with the Romans…"

OoO

Snape was struggling.

He didn't want to enjoy spending time with anyone. Not for hours upon hours, anyway, and definitely not at the expense of sleep, of which he managed little enough in the first place. He tolerated people. He even appreciated the occasional asides and snide remarks he exchanged with Minerva, whose sarcastic nature was a good match for his own. But enjoy? That was a route that led only to disappointment and heartbreak and foolish decisions.

Decisions such as sleeping outside of Gryffindor Tower for a week after a slip of the tongue. Or taking the Dark Mark at the bidding of a respected upperclassman. Nothing good ever came of enjoying someone's company. Not to someone like him, anyway.

There was another reason he was assiduously avoiding his neighbor. He knew his own nature. He was not interested in devoting himself to someone who would more likely than not come to resent his particular brand of friendship.

And devotion was the key word. For he was not a man that did things lightly. When he gave of himself, it was utterly and completely. And he desired the same in return. He became selfish. He was clingy. He was jealous of their time and their relationships with others. He knew it was unhealthy. So his solution was to avoid it altogether.

None of which changed the fact that he wanted nothing more than to reach out to Serena and spend more time in her presence. He'd been denying her overtures towards friendship for the better part of the week, but it was too late. One night and several chance meetings had been like water to a soul dying of thirst. No, to a seed lying dormant in the earth. Necessary for life. Death if withheld.

He cursed himself, not for the first time, for his obsessive nature. He'd been a nightmare all week, he knew he had, while he tried to fight off the steady compulsion to go befriend his neighbor.

And how pitiful was that?

He would stay away. He had to. He had more important things to worry about in any case. There were still classes to teach, children to protect, Tournaments to worry about and Dark Lords to prepare for. He would not bow to temptation. He would not let his attention be divided.

OoO

"So, did you know Hagrid's managed to interbreed manticores with fire crabs? Their offspring seem a bit…murderous. What are your thoughts on liberating one from a violent death and evaluating it for Potions worthiness?"

She was sitting in his living room. He had lasted exactly a week since that first random meeting. Snape wasn't entirely certain how this had happened, but when the object of his most recent obsession had refused to stop knocking at his door, his determination to avoid her at all costs had found itself upended and crumbled into teeny tiny pieces.

She had made no mention of his slamming the door in her face after the first knock (something that, he would never have admitted, had been more startled panic than anything meant to be truly offensive). Luckily (or unluckily? He still wasn't quite sure), she'd flounced right in when he finally reopened it and settled onto his couch as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

_At least it's a Saturday._ No students around to see him melt into a puddle of friendliness. He was certain if he had a tail it would be wagging frantically, he was so pitifully happy to see her.

"Liberating one from a violent death only to grant it an immediate one…followed by dissection and experimentation on its remains," he finally said. _Yes, sarcasm still functioning. Thank Merlin for small blessings._ "A bit frying pan and fire, I believe."

"Oh, don't take all the fun out of it, Severus," Serena admonished. He shivered a bit at the sound of his name coming from her lips, though a small voice inside him tried to keep up the fight.

_What in the seven hells is wrong with you?_

_Nothing is wrong with me._

_You're smiling._

_I smile._

_When?_

_…_

_…_

_Shut up._

_Weakling._

She was still talking.

" -ight even be able to figure out how to bottle fiendfyre with whatever gives them their Blast-Endedness. What do you think, Severus?" Another shiver. "It would be interesting to work on together."

_Together?_ Hook, line and sinker. "Let's get one tonight."

OoO

Snape was no longer passing out death glares, but Harry didn't know if he preferred this other version either.

"Two points from Gryffindor, Potter, for a rather abysmal attempt," Snape said mildly while vanishing the potion from Harry's cauldron. He moved on to Hermione's, humming when he found nothing amiss, and granted her a small nod before waltzing – well, okay, not waltzing, but definitely not billowing – over to the Slytherins and congratulating them on their efforts.

Harry leaned over to Ron, who was gaping at their professor's back.

"Does Snape seem, er, _cheerful_ to you?"

Ron turned to stare at him, mouth still slightly hanging, before nodding slowly. They both turned to look at Hermione, who was blushing at nothing as she bottled her potion to turn in.

The entire class was looking nonplussed as Professor Snape patted Malfoy on the shoulder, frowned instead of scowled at Neville, and dismissed them all early for – wait for it – "not being as dunderheaded as usual this afternoon." Positively glowing approval, from that man.

Harry grabbed his things and rushed out the door with Ron, dragging a strangely reluctant Hermione along with them. This milder version of Snape was almost more frightening than the angry one. At least they were used to him being angry, Harry thought. He had no idea what to expect with a mildly unpleasant one.

The change in Professor Snape's demeanor was noted by more than the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth years.

The Slytherins were bewildered by the last two weeks' wild back and forth in their normally unflappable Head of House's demeanor. They wondered amongst themselves why this week their Professor was treating the rest of the school like he usually treated his snakes.

The Gryffindors were certain he was happy because he was planning someone's (Harry's) unpleasant demise, and that that someone (Harry) would be disappearing from the castle forthwith. They were discussing various strategies of how to keep their fellow Gryffindor safe.

The Hufflepuffs were all delighted that Professor Snape seemed more content with their lot in life. They were hastily revising their "Befriend Snape and Make Him Less Mean" plans.

The Ravenclaws only noted that their Potions Professor was more amenable to questions, and a few more began showing up during his office hours to pick his brains on Potions making.

And the Secret Society of Grumpy Snape Admirers were a little disappointed that their bad boy professor was being…less bad. They did not discuss anything, as no one knew there were other members and thought they were the only one to look "past the surface" to the obviously intelligent, passionate, and "in need of someone to love him" man underneath.

Much to everyone's disappointment/relief/surprise/consternation, Professor Snape soon seemed to find his equilibrium, because after a week of almost smiles, less demeaning put-downs, and smaller point losses he was completely back to normal. As if nothing had happened.

Or as if he'd finally realized how much of his "I have a new friend and she doesn't hate me" happiness was leaking, and finally put a plug in it.

OoO

Time passed quickly for Snape, now that his weekends were filled with "Love Time." Not his words, of course. That was what Fawkes called it when he was in an especially teasing mood. But before he knew it, it was the day before Halloween and the day the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons schools would arrive for the Triwizard Tournament.

It was Sunday, and Snape was waking up to a crick in the neck and a lovely head of glossy black hair lying on his shoulder.

After a moment's confusion, he realized he was half-seated, half-reclined on his couch in his sitting room, with a drooling Serena leaned up against him. With a smirk, he gently eased her off his shoulder and to the other side of the couch before going off to take care of business and get started on a pot of tea.

Minutes later he was back on the couch holding a full cuppa in front of his best friend's face. He bit back a laugh as her nostrils began to wake up first, flaring and pulling in a deep breath of tea-scented air.

In moments Serena was sitting up and grabbing at the cup, taking a few grateful sips before she eyed Severus blearily.

"We fell asleep again, didn't we?" she asked in a dangerously sleep-roughened voice. It was a rhetorical question, as it happened on a weekly basis, more or less. Last night they had been talking after a delightful evening of experimenting in his potions lab.

Severus gave a small nod as he watched Serena stretch her arms over her head before rubbing at her stiff neck. Unable to resist, he sat down beside her and replaced her hands with his own, kneading and pressing at her knots. He winced as his own back protested the activity. _We're much too old to be falling asleep anywhere but in bed. Hmmm._ He quickly refocused on the massage before his mind could further pursue the thought.

It was a bit difficult to do as she purred and murmured under his ministrations, and Severus reluctantly allowed the massage to end as the last of her knots melted away. Serena immediately sat up straight and turned around, flapping her hands at him.

"All right, then, your turn, Severus," she said with a grin. He snorted, but obediently (and secretly eagerly) turned his back to her. She got up on her knees to begin returning the favor. He didn't purr, but he did sigh and relax at her soothing touch.

Half an hour later the two of them were sitting side by side feeling as puddly as tidepools. Severus shifted ever so slightly as Serena spoke up.

"You'll need to head up for breakfast soon, Severus."

"You should do the same."

"No, I think I'd prefer eating in the kitchens. Less humans, you know."

Severus snorted. "Would that I could join you," he drawled. He could do with less humans too. "Pity that Heads of Houses are expected to sit and watch their children eat." He stood up quickly after casting a Tempus charm. Breakfast would be in fifteen minutes. "You are certain you do not wish to join me?"

Coming from any other person, the question would have sounded wheedling, perhaps petulant. But in the velvety baritones of Severus' deep voice it became an invitation instead, hinting at the promise of pleasant reward if obeyed. He knew it did. He'd practiced it often enough.

Serena chuckled, seemingly unmoved. "Severus," she chided. When he just stayed in place, looking down at her with an expectant expression, she finally laughed and gave in. "Oh, _fine_. But just for you, you silly man. Let me get ready." She summoned a fresh change of clothes from her drawer in Severus' closet – Severus had his own in her quarters, what with their penchant for gabbing until they lost consciousness every Saturday night – and headed for the bathroom connected to Severus' bedroom.

In ten minutes she was fresh-faced, minty-fresh and ready to go in her overflowing robes. Snape shook his head and opened his door for her.

Even after a blissful month of weekends spent with the woman, Serena was a mystery to him at times. He knew other women (*cough cough* _Narcissa_) who spent hours and galleons on achieving the perfect look, highlighting their assets to their greatest potential. None of them could hold a candle to Serena. Even when she was decked out in no makeup and hideously baggy clothing. And yet she seemed to have no idea just how perfect she was. Both inside and out.

_Stop mooning, you idiot_. Snape had no idea how he always ended up in situations like this, but he'd resigned himself to it by now. He had a new best friend, and as sure as the sun rises in the east, he'd gone and fallen in love with her already. How she'd laugh if she knew.

Snape was certain that whatever madness had driven Serena to seek his company, it could only be short-lived. He may be happier now than he could ever remember being, but that didn't mean he'd turned into a paragon of goodness and light. He was still sarcastic, still ugly, and still a grumpy git.

After realizing he had no defense against the friendliness that was Serena Love, he'd decided to enjoy what he could before the inevitable dissolution of their friendship and his lifetime of longing afterwards. The longing would be unavoidable anyway, so he might as well reap the benefits of it while he could. Right? Right.

Besides, he might not have much time to long for anything once the war against the Dark Lord restarted in earnest.

Okay, so he was still a bit pessimistic as well.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Whoever said reviews make them write faster wasn't wrong; it's encouraging to know that my little thought baby is appreciated by others. Thanks!

To the SS/HG fans: yes, in my story Hermione has a crush on her potions professor: I don't know about you, but when I was in high school there was always that one teacher all the kids had the hots for. Either the youngest, the best looking, the funniest, or what have you. Snape is the youngest, and in wizarding terms he is, as a guest reviewer stated, "an extremely powerful wizard with prodigious talent in pretty much every magical discipline." Not to mention the bad boy vibe. Pretty attractive, if you ask me.

There was another reviewer who asked what Serena looks like. Tbh, when reading I prefer to have my own internal idea of what the characters look like, so I don't want to give you a specific person to think of when imagining her. If you're really curious, though, in my headcanon Serena looks Korean plus some feline elements from her true tiger form. Erm….think Korean fitness model. Muscular (because tigers are basically all muscle) and feminine. But not gross muscles, and still with legit curves.

Anyway, on to the next chapter!

Chapter 6

They arrived in the Great Hall right on time. There were precious few students, it being a Sunday morning, and even fewer staff. Truly, only the Heads were present at the High Table. Even Dumbledore seemed to be running late.

"Good morning, you two," Professor McGonagall said with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. Snape frowned while Serena smiled.

"Good morning, Minerva," Serena replied. "How has your week been?"

"Och, as well as can be expected, I suppose," the woman stated in her Scottish brogue. "The students have been in a tizzy over the arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons all week. It's been difficult to get them to focus in class."

"True!" exclaimed Madame Sprout. "The number of plants I've had to move to 24-hour observation just since Thursday…the poor things."

"I'll be glad enough once the other schools arrive this evening. Hopefully with everyone here and the champions chosen tomorrow the students will finally settle down," Minerva stated. Professors Sprout and Flitwick nodded in fierce agreement. Professor Snape pretended to ignore the entire conversation.

The sparkle was back in Minerva's eye. "Come now, Severus, stop being such a grump. You'd think that you'd be a bit more cheerful now that you have a beautiful young woman at your side. How were the students in your class? Any trouble?"

"No more than the usual, Minerva," Severus sneered, pointedly ignoring the rest of her little speech. He quickly speared a sausage from the serving tray and took a large bite, gesturing to his full mouth with false apology when she tried to continue the conversation.

The rest of the table was chuckling at the Potions Master's antics. He really was quite funny when he wasn't verbally assassinating an unwitting victim or in one of his moods. Dark as he was, the man had always tended towards the theatrical with his billows, drawls, carefully-planned movements and intense gaze.

Breakfast was soon over and Snape bit back a groan as he saw the gleam in Serena's eye.

"Not this again," he muttered.

Serena laughed. "Come now, Severus. It's Sunday morning. We have plenty of time before the other schools get here, right? Let's head back to my quarters."

"I must check in with my students to ensure they are prepared to be on their best behavior tonight," Snape tried.

"Funny, I thought you'd already told the seventh-years to take care of that on Friday."

"…I did. I still need to make sure the message has been passed along properly."

"Oh, Severus."

"Ye-es?"

Smirking, Serena turned to a drowsy-looking first-year Slytherin just walking into the Great Hall.

"Pardon, but are you and your friends prepared for tonight?"

The little boy looked wide-eyed and slightly unnerved at being confronted so early in the morning. Casting an anxious glance at his Head of House, he straightened up and nodded his head.

"Yes, ma'am. We will be in our finest school robes and on the very best of behavior to welcome the other schools tonight."

"Ah, excellent. And would you say everyone in your House is as prepared as you and your year mates?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am. We've been preparing since Friday night and going over our table etiquette and practicing conversation starters as a House."

Serena granted the small boy an approving smile. "Very good, thank you. You may head over to breakfast now. I won't take up any more of your time."

She shot a triumphant look at the scowling Head of Slytherin House.

"Well, that's been taken care of." She slipped a hand into his reluctant arm and began bodily dragging him down towards the dungeons in an inexorable grip. "There's no escape for you now," she whispered dramatically. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Very well, woman. Have your way with me."

"Oh, I will."

OoO

Four hours later Serena was looking well-sated and quite pleased with herself as Severus lay on his back, gasping and drenched with sweat.

"That was excellent!" she exclaimed. Are you sure you don't want to go again?"

"I have no desire to hasten my death any further."

"Awww," Serena complained. "You're no fun."

"And you are cruel," Snape shot back half-seriously. They were in one of Serena's former guest bedrooms, long since converted into a dueling practice room. Each of the converted guestrooms were expanded greatly into wizarding space. In this one, one half of the walls were covered in all sorts of Muggle weapons. In that half of the room all manner of Muggle weapons training spaces existed, from hand-to-hand fighting to swordplay to a gun and rifle range.

The other half of the enormous room was devoted to Magical warfare. Every Sunday after breakfast Serena dragged Severus into her quarters and forced him to teach her how to duel with a wand. After dragging him into the forest – the _forest_ – in another of her rooms and teaching him stealth 'in exchange' for his knowledge of offensive and defensive spells.

Not to mention the grueling amount of running and weight training she demanded they undergo before they dueled. Her other "guest bedroom" had been converted into a Muggle-looking workout room, complete with treadmills and something called an elliptical and a full set of weight-training equipment. It even contained a pool. Something or other about endurance training and strengthening the magical core that she'd read about in the library. Snape was doubtful. He wasn't even sure how she had convinced the castle to allow for such drastic changes.

Still, there was nothing he would deny his best friend. He was pathetic like that. And he did have to admit that over the last month he'd gone from blacking out during one of the sadistic monster's "training sessions" to managing to stay conscious even after four hours of sneaking, running, muscle-destroying, and dueling. At least the afternoons were more entertaining. He quite liked skeet shooting.

Unfortunately he was not to be allowed his fun afternoon. As they parted to head for their respective showers with a promise to reconvene after lunch, the floo in Snape's sitting room flared to life.

"Severus, my boy, there you are. I have been trying to contact you for the last hour." Snape cursed inwardly as the Headmaster eyed his disheveled state with a gleam in his eye. "I see you were otherwise occupied. I trust you had an enjoyable morning?"

Pinning his employer with his Don't-Pry-Into-My-Personal-Business Look, Snape retorted honestly, "Torturous, more like. What is it you need, Headmaster?"

The man in question looked disappointed but not surprised to have his teasing abruptly cut off. "Ah, my apologies, my boy. I am afraid I will have to keep you from what would have most surely been a wondrous afternoon. I need to see you in my office after lunch."

_Wondrous afternoon my arse._ Snape scowled at the old man's insinuations. Serena deserved better than that. "Very well," he clipped out before ending the connection. Sighing, he headed back out the door to deliver the bad news in person. No skeet shooting for him today.

Speaking the password, Snape passed the wards he'd been keyed into and opened his neighbor's front door. "Serena? The Headmaster has required my presence in his office after lunch. Where are yo-?" Snape froze as he walked further into the living room and realized his mistake.

Before he could about-face and walk back out a voice called. "Severus? Just a second, I'll be right out." True to her word, a moment later the door to the master bedroom opened and a vision of dripping hair and wet skin stepped out in nothing but a flimsy bathrobe that ended above the knee. "What did you say? Is everything alright?"

This was the first time Severus had seen Serena without her voluminous robes and the sight was…uplifting. In every sense of the word. Her bathrobe was damp and clingy, and her body was taut with muscle and plush with curves at the same time, in a dizzying mix of full breasts and hips and toned arms and legs, with a narrow waist that screamed health and fecundity.

Though he looked unmoved on the outside, Snape was gibbering on the inside as Serena eyed him with worry. "I…um…yes, everything…is fine." He swallowed a sudden mouthful of drool and shook his head, averting his eyes. Firmly staring at the wall, he remembered the reason he'd come. "I need to see the Headmaster after lunch. I'm sorry for the trouble."

He was shocked further when a soft chuckle reached his ears. "Is that why you looked so dumbfounded?" No…not exactly… "Don't worry about it, Severus. I'll be here if you get back before dinner. Go do your job, you silly man."

Still not looking at the goddess standing obliviously before him, he nodded his head and turned to flee. "I will see you later this afternoon, then."

"Bye, Severus."

"…Goodbye, Serena."

OoO

Snape did not, in fact, get to see Serena until it was almost time for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to arrive. After taking a very long, very cold shower, he'd been stuck up in that old coot's office since lunch ended going over the plans for accommodating the visiting schools ad nauseam. The dratted Headmaster had seemed to find his ever-increasing agitation more and more amusing as the hours dragged. Snape had not been so entertained.

He was puffing slightly by the time he'd reached Serena's door. It opened before he could knock, and his friend near walked straight into him before realizing he was there.

"Oh! Severus. I didn't expect to see you here. Meeting finally over?"

He let out a long sigh. "Just. May I escort you to the Entrance Hall? The other schools will be arriving shortly."

The next sigh came from a much shorter frame. "If you must…" she sent a pleading look his way. "I was hoping to run along to the library, you know. Much quieter there."

"I know," he snorted. "That is why I came to find you." Holding out an arm, he looked steadily at her until she gave up and slipped a small hand into his elbow.

"Very well, then, dear sir. Just lead the way, why don't you." He ignored her glum expression and immediately began to guide her up away from the dungeons, disregarding the mixed looks of speculation and vague disgust on the faces of the students they passed.

That is, until a certain redhead's loud whisper wafted over the crowded Entrance Hall. "Oi, look at the greasy dungeon bat! No wonder he's been in a better mood lately. He must have potioned her into becoming his girlfriend. Gross!"

His eyelid twitched and the rage began to rise to the surface before he was distracted by the tightening hand on his elbow. He looked down to find Serena smiling fondly at nothing. His anger was quickly forgotten by her next words.

"No potions involved, were there, Severus?" Her teasing voice was pitched low, for his ears only. He fought back a sudden heat in his face. Was she saying…? No, of course not. She only meant he hadn't poisoned her into becoming his…_girlfriend_. What a ridiculous word.

Swallowing an irrational bout of disappointment, he raised an eyebrow sardonically, murmuring from the corner of his mouth, "I will admit to no such thing."

Her smile deepened slightly but she made no other outward indication of their banter, to his relief. She seemed to understand his need to keep up appearances in public. Even now, he couldn't let down his guard. Especially now, actually, with the Dark Mark appearing at the Quidditch World Cup. They'd never discussed any details about his past, and he found himself wondering yet again how it seemed Serena seemed to accept everything about him, no questions asked.

Safely depositing his lady (for that was how he'd begun to think of her in the deepest corners of his mind) at the stairs in the Entrance Hall, he quietly bade her to stick with the rest of the staff and moved to order his students into line.

It was only a few moments before all the students were arranged and trooping outside to await the arrival of the visiting schools. Taking his place with the other teachers at the back of the group, Snape frowned at the Golden Trio standing in their line chatting away as they eagerly scanned the grounds.

In the solitude of their weekends Snape could happily forget about his vow to protect Lily's son, forget the continuing threat of the Dark Lord's return. He could pretend he was a free agent, beholden to no one, no longer under the thumb of two so very different yet so very similar masters. He did not welcome the early reminder this Sunday night that his life was not his own. No matter what he may wish – and did he wish it? Oh, how he wished it – he could not offer his heart or his soul to another until his current task was completed.

For the first time since Lily's death, he found himself hoping. Hoping to survive the end of this war, hoping to continue enjoying the company of one Serena Love.

He was roused from his reverie by the sound of Dumbledore announcing the arrival of the Beauxbaton contingent. He clapped along with everyone else as the Headmistress of the French school appeared along with a dozen boys and girls and drew back slightly at the arrival of Karkaroff and his students from Durmstrang. This was not a meeting he had been looking forward to. Thankfully, the ex-Death Eater seemed just as pleased not to acknowledge his former compatriot in lieu of shimmying close to the Hogwarts Headmaster.

As the schools filed back into the castle and into the Great Hall, Snape had to bodily drag Serena to the High Table and seat her firmly by his side.

"You. Will. Stay. Here," he stated crisply. She frowned at him. He remained unmoved. Or, at least, he pretended to.

"Honestly, Severus," she said in a low whisper. "No one will notice I'm gone. Why must you drag me into this cacophony?"

"While the other schools are here, you are a representative of Hogwarts just as surely as any student, staff or faculty member. It would behoove you to behave as such." _And not leave me here to endure this melee alone._

"Oh, fine," she huffed. He barely heard her muttered, "Damnable pack animals," and had to stifle a snort.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

OoO

Classes were cancelled the next day, much to the students' (and a certain faculty member's) delight. Serena and Severus made up for their lost Sunday afternoon with a morning of skeet shooting and training with all manner of Muggle weaponry. Not, however, without some more running and weight training, much to Snape's dismay.

"Do you honestly do this every single day, woman?"

"Of course I do, Severus. As should you – imagine how much more powerful you could be if you exercised more than just twice a week."

"Or how exhausted."

"Oh pish posh, you silly thing. Admit it, it's much easier to perform magic now than when we first met, isn't it?"

Snape had to stop and think for a moment. He'd always been proud of his magical prowess – he'd mastered dozens of spells before even starting Hogwarts as a student and had never stopped honing his skills. But it was true; this morning he had had his toothbrush roving over his teeth before he was even fully out of bed, almost without thought. And he couldn't remember actually needing his wand to perform magic this past month.

"Huh."

"Exactly. No more complaining for now, alright? Race you to that tree!"

"Wai—aaaauuuurrrrggggghhhhhhhh!"

OoO

Dinner that evening was awash with anticipation. Excitement and conjecture filled the air as the Hogwarts students discussed their favorite candidates. Snape stood with the rest of the teachers at the front of the Hall as the time ticked down, watching the chaos with an impassive face.

To look at him, no one could have guessed the taciturn Potions Master had been involved in a fierce tickle battle just half an hour earlier. Or that he had lost.

Safely ensconced behind his occlumency shields, Snape pondered the strange fantasyland that had become his life. During the week he was as he'd always been: sour, bitter, strict and antisocial. A source of terror to the students, and of frustration for the staff. Nothing had changed in that arena – Snape was too used to his well-worn "teacher/Death Eater spy/scary Potions Master" persona to change any of it now.

During the weekends, however, he felt like a completely different person. He let his shields down completely. He laughed, joked, smiled, and even (gasp*) felt…_happy_. He wasn't sure how much of it was influence from Serena and how much of it was part of his original nature, only now being able to come out of hiding. And if it was the latter, he grieved the fact that it had been nurtured the hell out of him before he could remember.

He still had his moments of doubt, of course. Mostly around Thursday or so, when the past weekend seemed a distant memory and he was certain he was just making an enormous ass out of himself. Serena seemed to be more than happy to allow him to his own devices while he was on duty with the children. Where she went to or what she did in that timeframe he had no idea.

On the Thursday and Friday leading up to the weekends, he found himself questioning everything. Why did he feel so comfortable around this person? What was she doing spending so much time with him? And what did she do during the week while he was busy? What was she planning?

He agonized back and forth every week until Saturday rolled around and he forgot it all over again in her presence. There was just something about her that made all his doubts and worries seem to fade away. She was always so happy to see him. She wasn't excessively exuberant or clingy. He could just feel the contentment and peace emanating from her when they were together. It was addictive. She was addictive.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice the Great Hall had completely filled up until a bright flash of blue light drew his attention outwards. The Goblet of Fire had selected its champions.

He didn't care overmuch about the champions from the other schools, though he applauded politely for both Victor Krum and Fleur Delacour. When Cedric Diggory was chosen as the Hogwarts candidate he was marginally pleased. The boy was a Hufflepuff, but he was intelligent and did well in all his classes. He would be an acceptable Triwizard champion.

When Harry Potter's name came out of the cup, he was immediately furious. _Not again_. This was one year he'd been certain nothing would happen to the boy. The World Cup had turned out to be a fluke – just some of his old compatriots wanting to relive their glory days. No one knew who had conjured the Dark Mark, but he was sure it hadn't been the Dark Lord himself. Albus had assured him the wraith was back in Albania. It had taken him a decade to return the last time he'd been disembodied. Snape wasn't fool enough to think it would take the same length of time for his return now, but it hadn't even been six months yet.

With the Dark Lord off recovering, the Black menace found to be innocent (he still had to suppress a howl of fury at the thought), and the Triwizard Tournament restricted to seventeen-year-olds and above, he'd been cautiously optimistic.

He should have known better than to combine any hope or optimism with the Boy-Who-Always-Ended-Up-In-Dangerous-Situations. Ever.

His mind went into overdrive as the entire Hall stared at Potter. Albus looked grim; there was no sign of the doddering old grandfather act now. The Age Line was impassible, and the Goblet had been charmed not to accept the names of any student under the age of seventeen even if someone else put it in for them. This was not something any of the students could have managed. It had to be one of the adults.

But who? His first thought was Karkaroff. But the man was a coward. He'd sold out so many of his fellow Death Eaters in order to buy his own freedom, and then fled the country immediately after his pardon. Could he be trying to work his way back into the Dark Lord's good graces? Delivering the boy into certain death might actually do the trick, if the Dark Lord wasn't set on killing the boy himself.

After Albus had quieted the mutinous crowd of students, he began the feast and motioned to Snape, Minerva, the other Headmasters and Bartemious Crouch to follow him into the room where the Triwizard champions were waiting.

Karkaroff immediately took the offensive, which Snape took as a point against him. Trying to throw off suspicion? He watched the man closely for any signs of relief as he said, "It's no one's fault but Potter's own, Karkaroff. Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here—"

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. Snape subsided obediently but kept watching the other wizard for any sign that would suggest something more than just a Headmaster upset about an unfair turn of events.

The man still wouldn't meet his eye. Snape couldn't come to a conclusion, and it frustrated him. Who else would want to off Potter? He cast an eye around the room.

Potter was protesting his innocence. As he should. For the sake of appearances, Snape made an impatient huffing noise and shook his head, allowing his lip to curl in the pretense of annoyed disbelief. He kept watch on the other adults through his peripheral vision, though he did not let his gaze move from where it was now pinned to the poor boy's indignant face. What a mess.

They kept on arguing, and he faded carefully into the background to observe. Therefore he was the only one not surprised when Alastor Moody came in and began flinging suspicions every which way.

_Fool of a man. That's the way to get a confession – just out and accuse them. You! Did you put the boy's name in the Goblet? Why yes, of course it was I. Who else could it have been? _

Snape snorted to himself as Moody outlined how the boy's name could have come out of that Goblet in great detail. _If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was _him _who put Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire._ But Moody was always that way – paranoid and genius at putting himself into the shoes of criminals. Snape's bet was still on the Durmstrang Headmaster, though his continued blustering about the unfairness of it all was starting to sound genuine.

After the arguing finally abated and the champions were given their instructions regarding the Tournament, Albus sent him a meaningful look before turning to Crouch to invite him for a nightcap. Snape understood the message immediately. _Meet me later in my office. _

He waited a few moments after Potter and Diggory had left before taking his leave unnoticed. He didn't see Serena in the Great Hall. _Figures she would have disappeared as quickly as possible._ For all her fondness for children, she was almost as antisocial as he was at times. Just another way she was perfect for him. Sigh.

Fading into the shadows, he followed the younger boy up the stairs and through the corridors until the child had made it safely to his common room.

_He didn't notice me at all. How am I supposed to keep such an oblivious child safe?_ Snape waited to make sure the boy didn't sneak back out before taking his leave. He headed straight for the Headmaster's office. The guests were sure to have retired by now.

Sure enough, after he had spoken the password and taken the stairs behind the gargoyle, he found the door open and Albus waiting for him. The older man's shoulders were slightly stooped as he stood stroking Fawkes. He didn't bother to straighten up as Snape walked in.

"Headmaster," Snape greeted.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "Thank you for coming up here at this hour." He looked up at the taller man with a defeated look. Snape was struck with the sudden realization of just how old the other man was.

"I had hoped to spare the boy any unnecessary trouble this year," Albus murmured. "And yet how Time and Fate make fools of us all."

Snape said nothing. There was nothing for him to say. He did not know how to comfort someone. All he could do was stand there with the man and offer him silent commiseration.

The Headmaster finally shook off his melancholy and drew himself up. There was no twinkle in his eyes now. Only the wizard that had defeated Grindelwald and terrified the Dark Lord stood there. "What did you see tonight?"

"Karkaroff was quick to throw suspicion away from himself and on to the boy's known advocates."

"Ah, yes. Doth the man protest too much?" Albus shook his head ruefully. "Do you believe it was him? You know the man much better than I do."

"At first, yes. But now…I am not certain."

Dumbledore sighed. "I feel the same. There is no greater candidate than a former follower of Voldemort, and of those we have but few in this castle."

Snape drew himself up indignantly, but Albus waved a hand to interrupt him before he could open his mouth to speak.

"Forgive the careless words of an old man, Severus. I know you are trustworthy. I have no doubt you continue to keep your word. Though I still believe you place too many of the sins of the father on the child. Harry is a good boy, Severus."

_I know that._ Snape curled his lip in disdain. "My opinion of the child or his father is no one's business. I do as you wish. Potter has survived these past few years, has he not?"

"Indeed he has, my boy, indeed he has." The Headmaster sighed heavily. "Do keep your eyes open. You will inform me of any suspicious activity that might lead us to our newest adversary."

"Of course," Snape replied. With a curt nod and a sweeping turn, he took his leave.

OoO

Tonight was an unusual night, he mused as he entered his quarters to find Serena waiting for him in his sitting room. She rose immediately and came towards him, worry etched on her face.

"Severus, what has happened? How did Harry Potter end up a Triwizard Champion? Isn't he too young?"

Severus sighed, about to share everything that had transpired that evening before an unwelcome thought came to mind.

"Why are you so interested in Potter?" he asked carefully. _Surely not. Abso_lute_ly_ _not_.

She seemed oblivious to his sudden suspicion. "He's just a child, Severus. I may not agree with mere seventeen-year-olds being allowed to risk their lives, but Harry Potter is even younger than that. Isn't he only fourteen? How can he be expected to compete?" She seemed completely earnest in her concern.

Severus let out a small huff of relief before chiding himself for even _thinking_ she could have been involved. Grasping her elbow and heading for the couch he sat them both down, slumping forward to place his head in his hands.

"We do not know how his name came out of the Goblet yet," he finally admitted reluctantly. "It is clear the boy did not enter himself. But it constitutes a magical binding contract. Potter must compete – he has no other choice."

"Oh, Severus…" Small arms came around him in an embrace, and he allowed himself to revel a moment in the comfort before pulling away. He still did not understand how she knew him so well; everyone "knew" he had no love for the Potter brat. No one, aside from Dumbledore, knew of his vow to protect the boy. And no one, not even Dumbledore, should have known just how distraught he was at the thought of the boy once more being placed in harms' way.

Apparently, no one had thought to inform Serena of that fact. Sometimes her intuition frightened him, if he were completely honest.

"We will figure out a way to keep him safe, Severus." He lifted his head to stare at the woman at his side.

"We…?" he asked.

A firm nod was his answer. "I've read about this tournament – people have died. He's just a cub, Severus. It's ridiculous that he is being forced to compete. And I know you don't want him to come to harm either."

_Am I so easy to read?_ He thought hazily. It should have alarmed him, that this woman who he had met only two months ago could see past his masks. But instead he felt comforted. Safe. And more determined than ever to make sure the Potter boy lived.

**A/N:** To my Guest Reviewer who really really wants to know if Serena looks like a certain Japanese *ahem* person:

I wish I had read your advice to use safe search before I looked her up, haha. While I still don't want to prescribe a certain person or face for people to imagine (you can imagine whatever you like)…let's just say that I'm thinking curves of a more natural "ideal." Key word natural. Like 36/24/36. Or 46/37/46. Or 38/30/38. You get the idea?

Also, just a note, Japanese people and Korean people don't really look the same to those in the know. Like if you were talking about a traditionally handsome Englishman and I asked if they looked like a traditionally handsome Irishman. They may have similarities, but really they look completely different.

To those who think the above hourglass type isn't natural, I have measurements in line with the others listed above, with no plastic surgery or otherwise involved. Especially the crazy workout routine described in the story (that's just cuz she's a tiger and likes to be active, not because I think you need to workout for an insane amount of time every day). If you don't like the hourglass figure, please feel free to imagine whatever you like. Every figure is beautiful in my opinion. Imagine the one you like best.

If anyone wants to continue this conversation, please sign up for an account so we can PM. I don't want to fill up my story with responses to reviewers, to be polite to those who just want to get on with the story.


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Not mine, more's the pity. JK Rowling is a (wonderful) beast.

A large wad of fluff at the end of this chapter. You've been warned.

**Chapter 8**

Up until now, Serena had been perfectly content limiting her interactions at Hogwarts to Severus, Fawkes, and the castle. But she had seen how shaken Severus was when Harry Potter's name came out of the goblet. And whatever concerned her young man concerned her.

She had taken to shadowing the young cub around the castle and she was not happy with what she saw. The poor little thing was being shunned by his peers; it appeared only one or two of them remained friendly with him.

Worse than that, however, was the shred of blackness that followed the cub about. She hadn't noticed it before, since she had not been paying close attention, but now that she was watching him…well, she couldn't just leave him like _that_.

OoO

Severus raised an eyebrow as a pale-faced Golden Boy was half-led, half-carried into the Great Hall by Granger and an identical pair of red-heads – the Twin Menaces - who all looked concerned for their small friend. Well, Granger looked concerned. The twins looked a mixture of anxious and…jealous? A strange combination.

_What's happened to the brat now?_ He couldn't help but wonder. At his side he could see Serena looking amused at the sight, which only fueled his curiosity. Leaning over ever so slightly, he whispered to her out of the corner of his mouth.

"Can I assume you know the reason our famed celebrity looks like he was blindsided by a nundu?"

A small chuckle was his answer and he was about to press further when she finally whispered back. "He looks either like he just found out his pet owl was a basilisk in disguise or like one of the Beauxbatons students agreed to be his paramour, doesn't he? I'll tell you later, Severus."

Severus sat back in his chair, even more curious. He relaxed, however, as the boy finally regained some color and a stupid grin stretched across the child's face.

"At least with that expression, whatever happened was a good thing. Irritating little nuisance." _Making me worry for nothing._

"Indeed," Serena responded slyly. "It must have been a _very_ good thing."

OoO

_She kissed me_. Did a first kiss count if it wasn't on the lips? Harry wasn't certain, but it had sure felt nice. He cast a glance up at the High Table, blushing as he saw Miss Love looking down at him in amusement. He quickly averted his eyes, but not before Hermione noticed.

"Really, Harry, it was a kiss on the forehead. Why are you looking like your world has been turned upside down?" she asked. "You need to eat and pull yourself together – do you want me to help you practice your summoning charm or not?"

He couldn't really explain. He knew it had been just a friendly kiss – affectionate, as if from a big sister or a mother, he would guess. It was just – he'd never been treated with physical affection before, aside from Hermione's occasional bear hugs. And Miss Love was…well, _lovely_. And kind. And beautiful. And her kiss had filled his heart with warmth and love. It had felt like coming home and being welcomed with open arms. As if all the bad thoughts and feelings had just been drained out of him at that one simple touch. And that was a sensation Harry had never felt before.

He had been walking with Hermione worrying about the next day's task – dragons! How did they expect them to fight _dragons_? They were on their way to practice the Summoning Charm when Miss Love had suddenly appeared and beckoned him over to the side of the corridor.

He hadn't really noticed her before. Aside from the beginning of the school year when the Headmaster had introduced her, she hadn't really been seen much by anyone until the other schools came for the tournament. Since then, she'd apparently been showing up to all the meals but Harry had been too engrossed in his own situation to take note.

This was the first time he'd met her in person and he wasn't entirely sure what to expect.

"Mr. Potter? I'm Serena, it's a pleasure to meet you. May I ask how you are doing? It must have been quite a shock to find yourself entered into the tournament without your say-so."

She didn't think he'd put his name in? Harry relaxed a bit, immediately feeling more at ease with the appearance of at least one other person who didn't think him stupid or suicidal.

"Hello, Miss Love. I'm fine, thank you for asking. Erm, how may I help you?"

Miss Love smiled gently at him. "Such a polite child. I merely wished to make your acquaintance and offer my support and condolences. I'm sure you must be feeling very overwhelmed at the moment."

Never very comfortable around adults, Harry wasn't really sure what to say. It didn't help that there was no neat category for him to fit Miss Love. She was on staff, he assumed, but she wasn't a Professor and he had no idea just what she did around the castle. Settling for politeness, Harry merely nodded dumbly.

"Are you prepared for tomorrow's task?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned. "If not, I have some knowledge that might be useful to you…"

Harry was surprised, but answered truthfully, "Yes, ma'am, I'll be okay. Professor Moody gave me an idea – I just need to practice is all."

Miss Love looked relieved. Smiling, she placed her hands on Harry's shoulders. Not reacting to his sudden flinch beyond a slight saddening in her smile, she gently pulled him forward and stood on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his forehead, directly on top of his lightning-bolt scar.

As he was reeling from the sudden sensation, she pulled back and dropped her arms, smiling at him.

"I'm very glad to hear that. Good luck, Mr. Potter. I wish you all the best." Then she turned and was gone.

OoO

_She kissed him._ Snape fought back an irrational surge of jealousy, chiding himself for an idiot. He couldn't help the small grimace that slipped past his occlumency shields. Ones he had hastily erected after Serena had told him why Potter had looked so befuddled during lunch.

"Really, Severus, it was a kiss on the forehead for good luck. Why are you looking like your world has been turned upside down?" she asked teasingly.

He didn't want to explain. It would be more than childish to whinge about her kissing someone other than him when they were only friends. And the Potter brat was just a boy; he knew that Serena hadn't meant anything romantic about it. The boy was much too young for her anyway.

Though now that he thought about it, he had no idea how old Serena was. She looked young, but her eyes seemed ancient at times. For all he knew she could be twenty-five or fifty-two. Or, gods forbid, even younger than that.

He eyed her with a certain dismayed suspicion. Surely she wasn't closer in age to Potter than to him, was she? _Was_ she?

"Severus." Her voice snapped him back to the present. "Severus, you look like you've seen a ghost." She laid a hand on his upper arm. "I thought you would find it funny. He's such a sweet little cub."

_I'm an idiot._ With a sigh, Severus quashed his ridiculous train of thought. Though the idea that she might be young enough to have been one of his students was still appalling. Surely not.

He huffed finally, crossing his arms. "Don't be ridiculous. What you do to encourage the students is none of my concern."

Apparently, Serena wasn't fooled for one moment. "Oh, Severus," she sighed, before giving him a soft kiss on the lips. Snape's mind immediately went blank as she grinned wryly up at him. "Better?"

"…"

"Severus?"

"…"

"Oh Merlin, I've broken you."

OoO

_Blasted dunderheaded fool of a boy! How in Merlin's name…?_ Severus had been floating about all night and all morning on the heels of that soft little kiss, but nothing could have kept him calm after the Hungarian Horntail breathed out virulent fire and nearly engulfed the fourteen-year old in angry licks of flame not five seconds into his turn.

Severus sneered as Potter waved his wand in the air to no effect. _What the hell is he thinking?_ There was no ready answer until a small twig appeared in the distance, growing larger and larger until it was snatched out of the sky by the boy. Ah. His broom. Severus relaxed, then cursed again. What was the boy going to do with a broom? Sweep the dragon with it?

They watched, horrified, as Potter took to the skies and the enraged dragon broke her chains and flew off after him. Snape was already half on his feet when Dumbledore grasped his sleeve and motioned for him to sit back down. He did so reluctantly and Serena immediately slipped a hand into his own under the cover of their overlapping robes. When he glanced at her, he found her sitting just as rigidly at his side, with a frown on her face as she searched for any sign of the Potter boy.

Grounded by the sudden desire to comfort his best friend, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and returned to watching the skies.

Equal amounts of relief and outrage filled him as the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Give-Him-Heart-Attacks flew back into the stadium and swooped down to claim his golden egg, though he didn't relax until Potter had left the enclosure.

As the stands began to empty after the scores were announced, Serena leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"I'm so glad he is okay," she murmured. She seemed not to notice Severus' shiver when the warmth of her breath touched his ear. "I was so worried."

_As was I,_ Severus reluctantly admitted to himself. _ As was I._

OoO

With the first task over and the second task not scheduled until after the winter holidays, the school naturally turned to the next big event in the year's schedule. The Yule Ball.

As Head of Slytherin House, it was Snape's unsavory duty to make sure his children all knew how to dance and comport themselves with dignity during the celebration. Luckily, most of his pureblood students already knew how to dance, and he was quite pleased with himself when he successfully managed to delegate the task of teaching the others to his older Slytherins.

He was just as happy to have a freed-up schedule when another person came to him asking for private lessons.

"I find it hard to believe that you of all people have to be taught how to dance," he murmured as he held Serena in his arms. _Bliss_. They were in his rooms, swaying to a slow orchestral number. Snape had turned it on with the thought of getting Serena comfortable with moving to a rhythm, of course. No other reason in particular.

Her head was comfortably pillowed on his shoulder as they moved to the beat in a gentle circle. He leaned his head down a touch to breathe in her intoxicating scent. She wore no fragrances that he could discern, but the smell of her hair and skin was indescribably divine. Completely her.

"I can dance," Serena offered. "I just have no idea how to dance to European wizarding music." She made to lean back, but he pulled her closer and she subsided with a small sigh of contentment. "This is quite nice, though."

They danced in silence for a while before she spoke again in a teasing lilt. "Just to be clear, though…will I have to dance this closely with everyone at the Yule Ball?"

Snape stiffened, jealousy quickly rearing its ugly head. He tightened his arm possessively.

"Only with me," he sniffed. He could feel her chuckle against him. "If anyone else even attempts to lay a hand on you, I fully expect you to hex them to pieces."

"Oh, Severus," Serena admonished. He could feel his cheeks warm as she leaned back to look up into his face. He let her this time. "You are a very sweet man."

His cheeks were definitely hot now and he coughed in embarrassment. As the song ended and a waltz began, he reluctantly let her go, drawing back into a proper dancing position. Placing one of her hands on his shoulder and grasping the other in his own, he let his remaining hand drop to her waist as he began leading her into the steps.

"_This_ is as close as any other person should get," he warned. "Any closer and your dancing partner will find himself bereft of both arms."

She laughed sweetly and closed the distance between them of her own accord. "Agreed."

He sighed, then. "I will not be able to spend all my time at your side, as unfortunate as that is. After the first dance I will most likely be expected to patrol the grounds for any…hormonal teenagers."

Serena nodded her head, directly locking eyes with him. "I understand. In that case, you'll have to make up for it by teaching me thoroughly tonight. I won't let you go until you show me every step there is."

"Agreed."_ I have absolutely zero problem with that._

They continued dancing long into the night.


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: This chapter is set before the Yule Ball, but don't worry, that will be coming up soon and be a big fluffy mess if the characters let me have any say in it.

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to the fantastic JK Rowling. I'm just playing in it.

**Chapter 9**

"You did _what_ again?" Fawkes was staring at her with wide eyes.

"I took a stray piece of soul from Harry's forehead."

"You took…a stray piece of soul…from Harry Potter's forehead."

"Yes, that's right. Why do you sound so surprised?" Serena bristled. "If anything, I should be asking you why _you_ hadn't taken care of it before. The cub has been here, what? Three and a half years? Why did you leave such a nasty thing in the boy?"

Fawkes raised his hands in surrender. "Peace, sister. Phoenix, remember? I can heal wounds and uplift spirits. You're the maneater, not I."

Serena scowled, not mollified in the slightest. "Watch your words, old bird. I haven't eaten a human since I met my Prince. Besides, that wasn't even a proper soul. Just a tiny shred of one. So it doesn't even count."

The phoenix in human form shook his head wryly, a grin forming as the full ramifications started to hit him. "You took that soul-piece out of Harry Potter's forehead." He began laughing. "You took the _soul_-_piece_ out of Harry Potter's forehead!"

"Well of course I did! It would have been criminal to leave that thing in there. What would you have had me do?" Serena watched with bewilderment as Fawkes began slapping his knee and howling with laughter.

"Just wait until Albus figures it out! Oh! He'll be so relieved….That poor, sweet boy. Ha ha ha haaaa…oh me, this is wonderful!"

Serena approached carefully. "Fawkes," she began slowly. "Fawkes, are you alright?"

The redhead had bright, sparkling tears streaming down his face. "Oh, take them, take them!" he said, gesturing towards himself. "Give them to your young man. Can't have them going to waste. Whew-hoo-hoo-hoo!" Serena obediently pulled out two large vials over to gather the tears while Fawkes continued his hysterics, finally settling down with only a few hiccoughs and deep breaths as the tears tapered to a stop.

"Will you please tell me what you are so pleased about?" Serena asked.

"You'll figure it out soon enough, I'm sure," Fawkes breathed out, face still red with mirth. Serena let him have his moment, then sat back down with a serious look on her face.

"While I'm glad to have provided you with some entertainment, I have another concern now." She frowned. "I've been noticing a similar darkness around Severus lately – it's not another soul piece, but it feels similar to what was in Harry's scar and it's growing stronger every day. I have never come across it before, and I am not sure that Severus is even aware of it."

Fawkes frowned immediately, his amusement quickly petering out.

"Fool of me to think you might not notice something like that. Your young man is indeed aware. He came to Albus' office to discuss it recently – it is somewhat connected to young Harry's scar in that it was caused by the same wizard. Have you done any research on Severus' life?"

"No, I didn't want to pry. But you're saying the same human who harmed Harry Potter has caused injury to my Severus?" Serena bristled. "What did he do?"

"It's a long story," Fawkes hedged, "and I am not certain it should be I that tells it to you. You truly do not know his past?"

Serena shrugged. "I know enough of it, just not much of this particular lifetime. Severus will tell me when he is ready, I'm sure. Just tell me, is he in any danger?"

"…He is," Fawkes admitted reluctantly. "He made a mistake in his youth and committed himself to making amends for it in a way that puts him directly behind the lines in this war."

"This war?" Serena was confused. "The last war in Britain I was aware of ended thirteen years ago. Did it not?"

"Well," Fawkes said, "perhaps we can have this discussion along with some tea. I can fill you in on what is public knowledge, at least."

Tea provided, the two sat comfortably in Serena's living room and Fawkes began to speak.

"It all started a few decades ago, when a dark wizard named Voldemort started recruiting followers and attacking Muggles…"

It wasn't long into his explanation when he was interrupted by a "Severus did WHAT?"

OoO

Friday evening, Snape was in his office furiously marking essays when Serena flounced in without knocking.

"I have a gift for you, Severus," she said, happily, before noticing his mental state. "Severus?" she asked, immediately coming to his side. She laid a hand on his tense shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"The students are wrong. Their essays are wrong. Their puny little minds are _very_ wrong," he growled, slashing a line across an entire paragraph before setting his quill down with a sigh. Leaning his head back against his chair, he looked up at the goddess beside him with a scowl.

"I have no idea how they can spend so much time in classes and not retain any information in their little heads," he complained. "I really don't understand. All they have to do is _listen_. I give them most of the answers they need in my lectures as it is. The rest is in their textbooks."

He continued, feeling relieved at being able to speak freely for once. "And then there are the children at the opposite end of the spectrum." He shuffled through the essays before pulling out one near twice the length of the others. "_Look_ at this," he said, waving it under Serena's nose. "It's ten inches longer than assigned and is crammed full of quotations from loosely related books. There is _zero_ original thought in here! I did not ask for research notes! I don't understand why this child is constantly turning them in to me!"

"Hmmm," Serena said, taking hold of the still-waving parchment and reading through it swiftly. "You're not wrong," she chuckled. "This student must really want to impress you. The research is very thorough. Though a poor end product – there is no synthesis of ideas in here, no hypothesis, no conclusion…nothing but facts and quotations of other researchers' thoughts." She raised her eyes to the top of the essay. "How old is this…Hermione Granger?"

"She must be fourteen or fifteen; she is in my fourth-year class," Snape grumbled. "The most annoying little know-it-all in existence. She's been a pain in my arse since she first came to school, always waving her hand in the air and not giving any of her classmates time to answer questions, volunteering information without it being asked for, generally disrupting my classroom and being a nuisance."

"Ah," Serena said sympathetically. "Has anyone taught the girl how to write an essay? And is there no way to advance her to a higher year? It sounds like she's not being challenged enough. It makes sense now why your other students are failing. Why bother paying attention when someone else always gets the credit?"

"Exactly. All that potential wasted because one little girl feels the need to vie for her Professors' attention in the most aggravating way. I've tried to have her advanced, if only to get her out of my classroom sooner," Severus answered. "But Albus feels the need to keep her in the same classes as the Potter brat - more fool him, since that means Potter isn't able to practice using his own brain with her there to think for him." He groaned. "And I have to put up with it for another three and a half years!"

Serena patted him on the head like he was a whining little brat himself. He glared up at her, unamused, but she didn't seem to mind.

"There, there, Severus," she soothed. He glowered a bit more. "If anyone else could hear you now, they'd think you actually care about your students learning."

"Of course I care," he grumbled with a slight twitch to his lips. She knew him so well. "It's hard not to, when they represent the future of our society. Some of them could be truly great if they were allowed to reach their full potential. All of them, really, if they were allowed to find their own niche. Sometimes I wish…" he cut himself off. It would do no good to wish he could act any differently towards the students in his classroom. If the Dark Lord hadn't survived, or if Snape had never taken that godforsaken mark, things could have been so much better. But he had, and the Dark Lord was still out there, and that meant that "Death Eater Snape pretending (rather poorly) to be one of the good guys" still ruled in public.

"Sometimes you wish…?" Serena asked gently. The sudden intensity of her question wasn't lost on Snape. He could feel the weight of her gaze on him. As if she knew everything already. As if she knew exactly what he had been about to say.

He hesitated. A part of him desperately wanted to come clean to Serena, to offer up all his misdeeds and his wrongdoings and his hurtful past for absolution, for her acceptance. Only a part of him, however. The rest of him was screaming for him to stay silent. _She'll hate you_, his mind whispered._ She'll never forgive you._

"Sometimes I wish they would just pay attention," he finished smoothly. Or he hoped it had been smoothly. Serena was looking at him as if she didn't believe that was what he'd been about to say. Not for the first time, Snape wondered if she was a natural legilimens. Impossible, of course. He would have detected any intrusion into his mind. She was just an excellent observer, it seemed.

"Mmhmm," she responded evenly. _Crap. She didn't buy it._ He braced himself for further questioning.

She changed the subject instead. _Oh, how I love you…_

"I know it's not officially the weekend yet, but it's Friday night. If you like, I can help you with your grading and we can get our weekend started early as soon as we're done?"

Snape looked at her askance. "I doubt you would be able to grade to my satisfaction."

She snorted. "Meaning you don't think I can be mean enough."

"Perhaps."

"Don't worry, dear Severus," she teased warmly. "I think I've gotten to know your style." She took the topmost essay from his stack and began reading it through. "Hand me a quill."

He reluctantly did so, watching carefully as she began slashing through it with a dreadful frown.

"That bad?" he asked. It would have to be terrible to rid his Serena of her ever-present good mood. Not that he would be surprised.

"What? Oh, no," Serena said, lifting her head momentarily to give him a wink and a smirk. "I'm just channeling my inner Professor Snape. Grr. Argh. Augh. Dunderheads."

He choked back a laugh, not even mildly offended. "Terrible acting skills," he commented. "I tremble to see what nauseatingly sweet things you've written in my stead."

Serena smirked again. "Oh, I think you might like this," she responded with a flourish. The essay returned to the top of his pile and she poked him in the nose with the feather end of his quill. "Well, go on. Tell me what you think."

Snape took up the essay obediently, fully prepared to banish the red writing if it didn't match his particular brand of vitriol. As he read, his eyebrow rose and rose until it was near touching his hairline. When he reached the end, he laid the essay down and pinned Serena with a glare.

She responded with a cheeky smile. "And the verdict is…?"

Half the stack of essays made their way to the other side of his desk as he wandlessly and wordlessly summoned a comfortable chair.

"Sit down. Shut up. And grade."

OoO

The weekend was pleasant. Almost too pleasant. Snape was fielding a lot of searching gazes and apologetic looks from his best friend, and he wasn't too sure what had caused it. Or if he liked it.

A small, infinitesimal part of him hoped Serena was looking at him like that because she had fallen in love with him too and wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Okay, maybe a large, irrational part of him hoped for that to be the case.

The more rational part of him scoffed and reasoned that she'd more likely gone and kissed another student on the forehead and was thinking of a way to inform him.

Although the last time she'd done so she hadn't seemed at all apologetic about it. And the last time she kissed a student he'd gotten one as well. On the lips.

Hmmm. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if that was what had actually happened. He could act wounded and hope for another kiss like last time.

And wasn't that pitiful, being so desperate as to be willing to settle for a compensatory touch of the lips.

"Severus? Severus, you're miles away. What are you thinking about so deeply?"

Snape answered without thinking, "Kissing you," and immediately wanted to sink into the ground in horror and embarrassment. _Great job, you gauche idiot. _

"Oh, Severus."

_Oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods you've done it now. Just wait for it. Here comes the 'I only see you as a friend' and the inevitable brush-off. How old are you, fifteen?_

He was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling in horror, so wasn't prepared for the light touch on his left forearm. Directly on top of his mark. On top of his Dark Mark. On top of the blasted reminder that he did not deserve a kiss, or a smile, or any sort of affection from the woman beside him.

"Severus, look down." Her voice was velvet and wind, chocolate and honey, silk and sunshine. He looked down.

She was smiling at him. He stood stock still, not understanding what he was seeing. _Why is she smiling? Shouldn't a brush-off be more serious?_

He remained as still as an untouched bar of chocolate, not even daring to breathe as Serena stepped closer and wound her arms about his neck. She turned her face upwards, looking directly into his eyes.

They stood there like that, unmoving, until finally she let out a little huff and said, "Severus, I need a little help here. Can you tilt your head down just a little more?"

_This is really happening. It's really happening. Is this really happening? What do I do what do I do what do I do—_

"Severus, your face."

With a sudden snap his arms were around Serena and his head dipping lower, lower, and lower until…

Their lips met. And Snape melted in the sudden heat of his desire making itself known. Without further thought, without breath, without a moment's hesitation he pulled Serena flush against him with one arm clamped around her dainty waist as his other hand reached up to cup her face. Her skin was smooth, warm and inviting. In that moment, he felt as though everything bad had disappeared from the world, leaving him with only his happiest memories and the feeling of _rightness,_ holding Serena in his arms.

He was in heaven. It was a light pressing of the lips at first, but quickly deepened as nibbles, nips and licks progressed to a rough open-mouthed kiss. Snape was so lost in the moment that he moved purely on instinct, tongue battling with hers in a pique of passion and desire.

He felt as if the weight of his past had been lifted off his shoulders, as if the years were rewinding themselves moment by moment. And as they kissed, that feeling of rightness strengthened until Snape was almost dizzy with it. _This. This is what I've been waiting for for so long._ The thought came unbidden and flitted through his consciousness almost before he had the chance to even notice it.

It was the need for oxygen that finally broke them apart, Snape reluctantly raising his head as Serena let hers drop to rest against his chest. His heart was pounding. He was certain Serena could hear it beating out its frantic rhythm. She was boneless, clinging to his robes and pressed flush against him. Not that he minded. Not that he minded at all.

Snape eventually came to his senses enough to realize the humming in his ears was not originating in his head, but from the beauty in his arms. She was humming, almost purring, as she gently rubbed her face along the fabric covering his chest.

They stood there, leaning together for strength, before Snape relaxed his grip enough to allow for space between them. His knees felt wobbly in a good way, and he moved them backwards until his knees hit the couch. Sitting down, he pulled Serena onto his lap, already craving another kiss.

This time their kiss was much less explosive and much more banked fire. Snape teased the crease of Serena's lovely mouth with his tongue until she parted her lips with a happy sigh, granting him entrance. He took his time, reveling in the moist heat and softness before slipping his tongue in to greet her own.

It was a long time before either moved to end the kiss, but Snape eventually pulled back, reluctantly, before he could get even more carried away. He wanted nothing more than to pick Serena up and carry her to his bed. But that would be moving too fast.

Serena still had her eyes closed, the expression on her face one of pure bliss and wonder. Snape couldn't help but feel a bit proud. _I put that look on her face._ He planted a small kiss on her nose to get her attention.

Her eyelids fluttered open.

"Wow." He preened at her whispered interjection. He wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment.

"Indeed."


	11. Chapter 10

**Hello all! So sorry for dropping off the face of the earth for a month. I'm a tax preparer, and tax season began, and then COVID-19 erupted. I hope everyone has been staying safe and healthy during this whole season of craziness. I can't promise I will be able to post regularly until after the tax season is over, though whether I'll be done by April 15th or by July 15th is still up in the air now.**

**Anywhoos, here is the next chapter in our story! Be warned, tharr be lemons ahead.**

**A/N. Not mine. Not mine. Not….mine….*sob***

**Chapter 10**

The rest of term passed in a haze of happiness. Even as he glared random students into tears or barked at the idiots attempting to plop death into their cauldrons, Snape was humming inside.

They met nearly every evening, now. The first few encounters had been heated repeats of their first kiss, but they'd eventually settled down and made time for actual conversations in between the petting and the lip locking.

Tonight marked a full month since that first night, and Severus and Serena were spending it snuggled together on his couch, both reading their own books in contentment.

Contentment. And snuggling. Snape had never thought either of those things would ever be in his grasp, but here they were. It was almost too good to be true.

_Don't think about that right now,_ he reminded himself. He'd been dodging the growing sense of disquiet since their first kiss. They hadn't exactly talked about it. Severus was not a man that…talked about things like relationships. But the neglected, ignored and constantly rejected part of himself did not trust, either. Why was Serena so close to him? She had been friendly to him since their first meeting. The woman was way out of his league; she could have had her pick in men. Why had she chosen him?

_Because I'm the only one available, of course, _that unsure part of him thought._ Who else is she going to go for here at the castle? Mad-Eye Moody?_

Enough, he chided himself. Serena deserved better than to be thought of in that manner. He still thought she was mad, seemingly happy to be with him of all people. But if that was her choice, who was he to deny it?

"You're doing it again, Severus." A delicate hand waved in front of his face. He looked down to see a smiling angel staring up at him. "What is that brilliant mind thinking about now?"

Snape was an exceptional liar by profession, but he had never been able to lie directly to the people he loved. Mislead, surely. Suggest, absolutely. But never outright lie.

So he opted for the truth. "This. Us," he responded, waving a hand in their general direction. "And how it feels too good to be true. Sometimes," he amended. He had never known much happiness in his life. And he just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I know the feeling," she surprised him by saying. "It's because I've – it _feels_ like I've been searching and waiting for you for ages, and I've finally found you after all this time."

Had Severus been a softer man, he might have swooned. Had he been a more confident one, he might have swept her to bed right away after that confession. But instead, he responded with incredulity. And sarcasm. Always the sarcasm.

"You could have anyone," he scoffed. "And yet you choose me." He tapped her gently on the forehead with one knuckle, not realizing the full truth of his words. "You realize you're stuck with me now." _I'll never let you go._

"Yes," was the immodest—but honest—reply. "I could have had anyone." Snape found himself lost in Serena's brilliant violet gaze. "But I chose you. And only you." _Forever_ was unspoken, but he could hear it in his mind as clear as day.

Snape didn't have a reply for that. He pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her own soft ones. Their books dropped, unnoticed, to the floor as he gently laid her down on the couch, covering her body with his own as they melted into one another.

Kiss followed kiss, turning heated in a moment as Snape nestled himself between her legs and began gently moving over her. All thought, all doubt disappeared as he once again lost himself in the rightness of being with his Serena. It flooded over him, blinding his senses to all but the woman in his arms and her luscious lips and delectable body.

He lifted one hand from her cheek to trace the curves of that body, feeling himself grow rigid in an instant as she exhaled heavily and let out a small moan. Encouraged, he let his hand glide down to her hips and around to cup one lovely cheek, gently massaging it and drawing more sighs and moans from the woman in his arms.

Slowly, ever so slowly he began rocking against her as they continued to kiss, groaning as his fully clothed erection made contact with her own most private place. It was heaven and it was hell, and he gladly tortured them both.

"Severus," she whispered against his lips, and he responded with another groan, beginning to thrust rhythmically against her. This was the furthest they had gone with one another, and Snape was fast losing control over his raging desire. Serena was not much better, panting and moaning as her hands roamed freely about his body.

When he couldn't take it any longer, he let his hand trace the line of her trousers and slid one finger underneath. When she didn't protest, he let the rest of his hand slip under both trousers and underwear and cupped her mound, moaning as he felt the slick wetness of her arousal coating his fingers in an instant.

Serena arched into his hand, mewling as he found her nub and began to gently caress it, rolling it between his slick fingers and rubbing in circular motions as she began to tremble under his touch.

"Please, Severus," she cried out, letting out a shriek of passion as he dipped his fingers into her wetness and continued his ministrations. His erection was raging by now, his desire for her towering. She was arching into him, begging for more, so he obediently slid two fingers into her quim and curled them upwards in a "come hither" motion, finding a rough patch of tissue that set her off in another round of moans and exclamations. Through all this he continued caressing her with his thumb, and in moments he felt her walls begin to flutter and squeeze, so hard he felt his fingers would break off.

She was wailing and screaming his name, and Severus was so hard he could hardly think. He stayed in place as she came, giving the occasional stroke or roll to keep her orgasm going as long as he could. When finally it tapered off, he was surprised to suddenly find himself on his back, a near feral – and breathtakingly disheveled – woman staring decidedly at the placket of his trousers.

"Take them off," she breathed, and he did so with no hesitation whatsoever. As soon as they were unbuttoned Serena rolled them down along with his pants, Snape lifting his hips to help. Next to roll were his eyes, straight up into his head, as she began kissing and licking his length with a gentleness that belied her previous impatience.

When she took him into her mouth, he let out a strained groan, the feeling of her soft, wet warmth almost overwhelming in its goodness. She began bobbing, suckling and running her tongue along the underside of him as she made her way lower and lower.

She stopped once she near gagged on the length of him, pulling back and surveying him with a thoughtful eye. His erection wagged in protest at the sudden loss, and he panted as he waited on her next move.

Nothing could have prepared him for her resuming her bobbing and then _swallowing_ him down her throat. The new tightness was overwhelming, and he could feel his desire surging to the surface as he groaned and threw his head back at the sensation.

All was lost when next she hummed. The vibration combined with the tight warmth of her throat was too much, and he came with a shout, jerking his hips upwards as he shot load after load of cum down her throat. It was the longest and largest orgasm he had ever had, and he near whited out towards the end of it.

When he had recovered, he found his minx splayed out bonelessly on top of him, with a self-satisfied smile on her face as she watched him regain his senses. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Wow," was all he could manage.

"Yes," she agreed.

OoO

**The Day of the Yule Ball**

Snape had an issue. He twisted and turned, shuffled and leaned, but no matter how much he struggled he could not get his arm into the other sleeve of his dress robes. He stood there feeling frustrated and just a bit dunderheaded half-dressed.

"What. Is. The. Problem?" he growled out as he gave it up as a bad job, pulling off the jacket and giving it a glare. The malfeasant material hung from his hand, pretending innocence.

He didn't understand. He'd had this set of dress robes specially tailored for him just before the school year began. At the behest of Albus Dumbledore, of course, who had demanded the Potions Master wear something "a bit different, and with a splash of color, by all means, Severus," to the Yule Ball. He'd felt a significant amount of smugness as he'd ordered an all-black outfit in his favored Merino wool, with a dress shirt underneath that would show just the slightest splash of white at the collar and sleeves. It was nearly identical to his normal robes, minus the billowing cloak.

But the damned thing didn't fit. The entire ensemble, which had fit perfectly at the beginning of the school year, was now entirely too tight. The trousers were snug – snugger than he liked over certain parts of his body, and the white dress shirt was straining across the chest and shoulders.

With a huff, he drew out his wand, wondering why he hadn't requested a fitting charm like he had on the rest of his clothing. Well, he knew why. His measurements hadn't changed since he'd turned twenty-four, and he'd only planned on wearing these robes the once. He'd have to do it himself this time.

The question was, did he trust his ability with household charms enough to adjust them to fit? Well, only one way to find out.

OoO

_Oh my_. A certain Gryffindor Princess blushed scarlet as a tall, dark, and _fit_ man took his place with the rest of the staff inside the lavishly decorated Great Hall. She had to give herself a shake and refocus her attention on her own actual date, realizing belatedly that there might have been an unconscious bias that had led to her saying yes to the tall, dark man at her own side.

Victor Krum looked down fondly. Mistaking her redness as embarrassed shyness, he gave her a consoling pat on the pretty little hand tucked into his elbow.

"Eet is alright, Hermy-ownee," he assured her. "Ve just have one dance before ve kan be seated for dinner."

"Oh, huh? Right," was the response, as eyes flitted back over to where the staff stood.

The young Gryffindor was certainly not alone in her distraction. Though Snape had tried his best, his grasp of household charms was nowhere near as prodigious as his skill in defense or even transfiguration (arguably his least favorite subject in school). His hastily adjusted dress robes were still just a smidge too tight in certain eye-catching areas. They were also rather revealing without the voluminous cloak the Potions Master normally wore around the castle.

Months of exercising with his best friend had done much for the normally gaunt, sallow-looking man. He was still rather lean but had filled out with a pleasant amount of muscle and gained a healthy…non-color, if you will, as Snape was still just as pale as ever. But the sickly pallor had gone, leaving him with alabaster skin that contrasted strikingly with his dark hair and eyes.

The Potions Master was oblivious, of course, as to what his new look was doing to a good portion of the female - and a surprising number of the male - population currently in the room. His eyes were fixed on a single person, and at that moment he wouldn't have noticed a herd of hippogriffs rampaging through the castle unless they blocked his view of his prize.

His Serena was dressed in a well-fitted long formal dress in white, with sheer black embroidery embellishing the side and back cut-outs, highlighting her hourglass figure and toned arms and back. It could have been an odd pairing, generous curves and well-developed musculature, but on the graceful woman it was a devastating combination.

Finally regaining control of his senses, Snape strode over to Serena as the music started, approval and mischief glittering in his rich dark eyes.

"May I have this dance?" he rumbled in his deep velvet baritone.

She smiled at him, reaching out a graceful arm. "I would be delighted, kind sir," she stated, following him without hesitation onto the dance floor.

The 'kind sir' snorted even as he led her in a graceful turn. "You would be the only one who could even think such a thing of me," he said disparagingly.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Serena mused, glancing around the ballroom at the envious looks being thrown their way. "It seems there are many here that would take my place in a heartbeat."

"Mine, surely," Snape replied. He felt the eyes on them too; how could the spy not? But he was certain she was the one all eyes were following. Who but the woefully misled woman in his arms could think of him in such a way?

The rest of the dance was spent in meaningful silence, neither partner removing their attention from the other as they twirled and spun and moved about the dance floor alongside the other couples. It was with regret that they separated once the music ended. Snape led Serena over to her seat, drawing it out for her before moving to his own.

Dinner went well enough, though Karkaroff kept trying to catch his attention. Snape avoided it by spending all his time either eyeing the students for trouble or speaking with Serena about the latest Potions Journal that had come out. There were some articles in it he had found intriguing, for their theories if not for their execution.

He watched with a scowl as several couples stood up and left the Great Hall well before dinner was ended. _Hormonal little prats_, he grumbled to himself. Now he would have the spend the rest of the evening tracking them down and preventing a marked increase in teenaged pregnancies amongst the Hogwarts population. _You'd think that with all the magical education they get they'd learn one or two contraceptive charms,_ he thought. Then he shuddered and changed his mind. That would only make things worse.

Therefore as soon as dinner was over and the students released to the dance floor again, he stood and turned to Serena, half-smirking as he noticed she already looked ready to leave.

"Will you be staying, my lady?" he asked sardonically. She rolled her eyes at him and stood herself, shaking her beautifully coiffed head wryly.

"Get me out of here, Severus," she whispered, tucking her hand into his outstretched arm.

He moved to oblige but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Bristling, he swung around to find Karkaroff glaring back at him.

"I need to speak to you, Snape," the man insisted. "Vere are you going?"

Snape coldly brushed Karkaroff's hand off his shoulder. "Away from here," he stated smoothly. "Good evening, Headmaster."

"Wait!" As they turned away Snape could hear the man shuffling after them. He ignored him, choosing instead to walk faster with Serena by his side. Not for the first time he was grateful she wasn't one to dawdle.

Weaving their way expertly through the throng of students, Snape quickly led Serena from the Great Hall. They headed towards the dungeons, Snape still grumbling over the fact that the rest of the evening would be spent babysitting.

"Karkaroff seemed rather desperate to speak to you," Serena commented as they walked along. "Do you know what he wanted to talk about?"

_Probably the Dark Mark growing more visible every day,_ Snape thought sourly. He'd noticed it happening throughout the entire first term. It could only mean one thing. The Dark Lord was growing stronger. And Snape still had no idea how to tell Serena about his Death Eater past, or his current role as spy.

He voiced this last thought deliberately. "I have no idea…" he drawled, trailing off. It wasn't a lie if he wasn't actually answering the question, he decided. His mood continued to worsen. Serena would no doubt leave him in a heartbeat if she knew of his past.

Though it had been in the papers at the time. He found himself hoping she already knew and had just chosen never to mention it. Or question him. Or ask out of curiosity. _Preposterous. The woman is worse than Minerva when it comes to being curious. If she knew she would have brought it up already. _

The rest of the walk was made in silence, Snape brooding and Serena allowing it graciously. When they reached her door he turned to leave immediately. A small hand on his arm stopped him.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, Severus."

_No, I can't_…he impulsively pressed a kiss to her forehead, then tipped her chin up to kiss her lips.

"Thank you, Serena," he replied. She gazed at him for a moment, searching his eyes, before nodding firmly and turning to her door.

"Good night, then."

"Good night."


End file.
